The Bimbo and the Frogs
by lovelovelove198090
Summary: Pauly Holland is one of the most popular girls at the high school, and she's decided to take on the Frog brothers as a project when she discovers they have crushes on her friends. The Frogs want nothing to do with her, but when they discover she and her friend Cindy are in danger of becoming vampires, they go along with it in favor of truth, justice, and the American way.
1. Prologue: David's POV

**See profile for explanation**

* * *

Prologue

David's POV

We watched them in the shadows on the boardwalk most nightd. I had done it enough to know who they were. They were the five most popular girls at the Santa Clara High School: Cindy, Pauly, Debbie, Tiffani, and Taylor. Most of them were twits, but something drew me to their leader, Cindy. She was evil. She was evil and she was stupid, not to mention shallow and attractive, with light brown hair and dark blue eyes, almost violet. She would be perfect for the clan. She could be ruthless, but she'd never become intelligent enough to question me. Plus the promise of keeping her youthful good looks forever would be enough for her.

And then there was Pauly. Pauly could have been useful. But I knew she wasn't. She still had some level of benevolence in tact, deep down. I'd overheard her sharp putdowns, but instead wearing an instant smirk like Cindy, she would always almost look regretful for a moment. But sometimes she wouldn't, and in those moments, I'd considered taking her and Cindy together. But I knew that wouldn't work. It would be too difficult was the problem. One popular rich kid dead is suspicious enough. But two? The police might get off their asses and actually hunt us down. Instead of understanding the truth, they'd assume we were Satanists, and arrest us. And who would want to waste eternal youth in jail? It wouldn't be worth the risk. Not both of them.

Cindy, though, I could handle only Cindy. Maybe I could maybe a sacrifice, let the girl stay with her parents until she graduates so no one will be suspicious. It would be a pain to wait for her to sneak out of the house but it would only be for two years. Pauly would be more of an issue.

She would be nervous, I know it. She might even say something along the lines of, "Eww, drinking blood is, like, totally grody to the max, like, you know?"

That manner of speech alone would be reason enough to avoid either of them, and yet it's so tempting. They're just stupid, and so young. Pauly is not nearly as attractive as Cindy though. Cindy isn't the best looking girl I've ever seen either. Pauly is California bland, you know the deal, blonde hair and blue eyes. Her color of blonde is shocking, I'd must admit. It's so blonde it's nearly white, like mine, and it's natural too. Not like their friend Tiffani's. She's peculiarly tall too, at least compared to her friends, at five foot seven, five foot eight I'd estimate. She's just too vapid as well. Anything that doesn't relate to her, clothes, MTV, Seventeen, Cindy, or her boyfriend, Zack, I think his name is, is worthless in her mind. I almost pity her. She'd make a decent snack, maybe.

Not like Cindy. Cindy is as concerned with vapid things as Pauly, but she isn't as stupid, I assume. That's not to say she isn't stupid. She's just not stupid to the point of annoyance. None of the other girl were really worth mentioning other than these two. I wish Pauly wasn't worth mentioning either. But therein lies the problem. Cindy and Pauly are apparently joined at the hip. They have those little "BEST FRIENDS" charms on their necklaces. You know, those disgusting little things with "BE FRI" on one and "ST ENDS" on the other. They seem inseparable. I've approached Cindy about three times before. Every time, she says "Like, sure. OK," and then "Like, come on, Pauly, let's go hang with, like, David."

And Pauly comes over with the all-brawn no-brains boyfriend of hers, big stupid smile on her face, while he drags his feet over like a Neanderthal.

"Fur shur! Like, where are we going," she'll ask.

And then we end hanging out at the little amusement park on the boardwalk or the local diner. And every moment I get Cindy alone, all she wants to do is kiss. And ask what college I'm going to. And what I'm majoring in. And if I have any girlfriends she should know about. So I lied.

I'm sure that she brags to all her friends, "David is, like totally going to, like, USC, but he comes here, like every weekend, and he's majoring in business, so he'll like totally be rich, you know? And , USC is, like, totally private, and not all grody and scummy like UCLA, you know?"

And all her little friends nod along and "Like, totally" and "Fur shur!"

It's pathetic how easy their little lives are to predict. In fact, if you think about it, I'd be saving Cindy. Taking her minor intelligence to a new, more useful (for me at least) level. It's not like she'd be missing anything.


	2. Chapter 1: Pauly's POV

Ch. 1

Pauly's POV

January 14th, 1987

I don't mean to brag or anything, but my life is, like, totally perfect. I'm totally serious. I've got, like, the best clothes, the most choice boyfriend, Jack, the best set of friends, loads of money, stellar looks, amazing hair, great makeup, and to top it all off, I live in California, where the sun always shines.

I'm turning sixteen next month, and Mother let it slip that Daddy bought the red Beemer convertible I asked for. I, like, totally dodged a bullet. I mean, what if he bought the wrong color. I could not be seen, like, driving around in a blue car, ok? People would think I'm conceited because I have blue eyes, and, I mean, tons of losers already think I am.

Like this one psycho, Edgar Frog, who, like, believes in vampires is totally holding a grudge over something, like, really stupid. You see, we were, like, at summer camp together the summer before junior high, and he was like the only one there I knew from school. So we were, like, sort of friends, but not really. It's just that everyone else there was even lamer than him.

So when seventh grade started again, I totally went back to hanging out with my friends, Debbie, Tiffani, Taylor, and of course my best friend Cindy. Me and Cindy have been, like, best friends since Montessori preschool. But I'm, like, getting off-topic. Anyway, it was like super-hot that day and I was wearing this blue t-shirt that showed off my new B-cups at the time, and these cute denim short shorts, and I mean, oh my God, I looked so hot for seventh grade; I mean I could have totally passed for ninth. But anyway, getting off-topic again.

So, anyway, like, Edgar showed up, and he was all, "Hi, Pauly!" and all excited to see me. And I mean, any straight guy would be. And as weird as Edgar Frog is, he's definitely straight. No gay guy would dress like Rambo everyday and viciously attack people with dead animal remnants (that's a whole other story.) So, anyway, all my friends were looking at me like, "Ohmigod, Pauly. Why is that creep talking to you?" So I was all, "Gag me with a spoon, Edward!"

I think pretending not to know his name was a good touch. And he looked all sad and I felt really bad, but it was, like, worth it or else I never would have gotten to where I am today. So anyway, everything was totally cool from then on, and other than a few disgusting, unmentionable moments that year, I never had to talk to Edgar Frog again. Besides, he has his weirdo brother Alan for a friend, so it's not like he's completely alone.

Oh, and speaking of people who think I'm conceited, other than the Frog Brothers, only, like, Janet Anderson has been mean to me. She's had, like, eternal PMS, since like, third grade, and it's always projected at me. "Look at her, thinks she's so hot," Janet's always saying, like I can't hear her. And I'm always all, "Puh-lease, Janet, like, take a Midol for God's sake, and spare us all."

I'd suggest that she and Edgar go out, but Edgar hates her too. Edgar hates everyone except but his brother and maybe, like, comic book people. Like, you know, Superman, Batman, and the X Men. And the closest he gets to romance are probably steamy nights with a Wonder Woman action figure. And he probably never takes her out of her packaging. I mean, it's not like he's ugly or anything. It's just like I said, he's psycho.

Anyway, I don't know why I'm, like, thinking about Edgar. I mean, Edward. So, anyway, this morning, I was, like, totally, off to school, wearing a denim jacket, a white t-shirt, and blue jeans with the holes in the knees, in Debbie's Jetta. It was totally a typical day, at first. You know, like, lunch with the girls at the diner, skipping geometry to make out with Jack in the supply closet (did I mention he's the football team captain? And only in tenth grade?), the usual.

And then I realized why I thought about the Frogs this morning when I saw this totally inspirational poster in the hall that was all, "Do a random act of kindness."

And then I knew that if I did a random act of kindness, like the poster said, I could, like, totally help the Frogs not be such weirdos and, like, balance out my karma at the same time. So, I, like, made my friends go to the boardwalk with me after cheer practice, and immediately set out to help the Frogs be happy instead of all gloomy and pouty.


	3. Chapter 2: Edgar's POV

Ch. 2

Edgar's POV

I've managed to do something pretty stupid. I've let myself have some misguided, self-indulgent crush on Tiffani Bartolini. And what's wrong with that? She's one of the most popular girls at SCH, and on that food chain, I fall somewhere between pond scum and that piece of dog shit I left on Pauly Holland's door step (I was in seventh grade, OK?). Oh, and Pauly? She's one of Debbie's best friends. She was one of mine at some point in time, but that was really stupid.

Now, Pauly pretends she thinks my name is Edward, for God's sake. But that's better than Tiffani. I don't think she even knows who I am. Or what I look like. If she knew, though, she wouldn't be as much of a bitch as Pauly is. Alan says he thinks she' trying to be Pauly, because she bleached her hair blonde. But that's not true. She's cut her hair a lot different than Pauly's. Pauly has a perm, while Tiffani wears her bobbed hair parted to the left, with the entire right section going skyward, and the left side left normal. She's trying to make a statement; not like Janet Anderson, who shaved her head and acts like hating the popular kids makes you "alternative."

Instead, it's like she wants to stand out from her teenybopper friends. She wants to escape, but she hasn't had the opportunity. And this one time, when we got out for Christmas break last month, I swear, she looked right at me, with this face that screamed "Save me." And that was all I wanted to do, in that moment. Save her from the mundane life that she and her fellow preppies live. But I can't, because I don't know she'll say something like, "Gag me with a spoon, Edward," like Pauly did on the first day of seventh grade. Somehow I don't think she would, though.

But then, today, while Alan and me were unloading the new comic book shipments, I saw her with all her friends. She had changed out of her school clothes into a tight white t-shirt and jeans. The rest of the girls were dressed like whores, especially Pauly. And I don't just say that because I hate her. I say it because she really did look like a streetwalker. Pauly had changed into a black cropped tank top and leather miniskirt with black high heels (like she needed them. She was already five seven). I watched her run across the street to the shop. _Oh God_, I thought. I already felt like enough of a jerk for having a crush on Tiffani. The last thing I needed today is Pauly on my case.

So, naturally, at least as of recently, I did something stupid. I ducked under the counter before Pauly came into the store. "Hellllooo," she trilled in an annoyed voice. Alan came lumbering out of the back room up to the counter. "Oh, hi, Pauly," he muttered. Then he looked at me on the ground and shrugged. "Hey, Edgar, look who's here. It's Pauly." I slowly stood up and glared at him. "Well, aren't you going to say hello," Pauly snapped. I rolled my eyes. "Hello, Your Highness," I said. Pauly smirked smugly, and, not for the first time, I had this insane desire to throw a football at her face and break her nose, just like in this Brady Bunch rerun I saw when I was a kid.

"So, like, look, I had, like, this major self-discovery today-" Alan cut her off. "Don't you have one of those every time you look in the mirror?" "Ha, ha, ha, you're, like, so funny," Pauly said sarcastically. "Anyway, so, like, I was feeling this emptiness-" "In your head," I asked, interrupting. "No, like, in my heart, you know? Which, is like, so weird for me, since I have, like, Jack to handle that. But anyway, quit interrupting. So, I, like, saw this poster in the hall, that was all 'Do a random act of kindness'. And you know what I thought? Why don't I, like, do a random act of kindness for the Frog brothers. 'Cause, like, you guys need it, because you both, like, only talk to each other, and seem so miserable, and stuff, so, like, how can I, like, help you guys? And, like, you know, do you guys, like, a favor?"

For a minute, I considered asking if she meant a sexual favor, so she'd be grossed out and leave. But then she might mention it to Tiffani. So I thought maybe I should just come out and ask, "Hey, Pauly, does your friend Tiffani Bartolini know I exist?" But I can't trust Pauly with that kind of information. It was bad enough when Alan found out. He kept mentioning "Tiffani Frog" whenever he wanted to piss me off for weeks. But if Pauly knew, she might tell Tiffani. And then everything would go to hell.

So finally, I said, "You can do me the favor of leaving."

She sighed. "Like, oh my god," she snapped. "I should have known you couldn't be mature about this."

And then I watched as Cindy Dunbar, the leader of the preppie girls, raced into the store and smacked Pauly on the ass, one of the many preppie greetings among the girls. Pauly giggled and turned around. "Hey, Cin," she said.

"Hey, Pauly," she said, giggling as well. "Like, why are you wasting your time here? David, like, totally invited all of us to come hang out. And he has, like, really cute friends for Tiffani, Debbie, and Taylor, so we don't have to worry about them. Oh, and Jack's outside. He's been, like, looking all over for you!"

"Oh, he should have, like, come in here! I'm, like, trying to get my little brother Jeremy a present for his birthday party tomorrow. Tell Jack I'll be there in, like, a minute," Pauly said before waving across the street at Jock Strap, I mean Jack Pratt (Yes, that's really his name).

"Ok, fer shure," Cindy said, before she ran across the street. Pauly quickly grabbed an X-Men comic and put on the counter with this shifty look in her eyes. I knew what the problem was immediately. You see, the summer before seventh grade, Pauly was my friend. I don't know why but she was for that summer. And one of the things she told was, "I kind of like Spider Man comics. But don't, like, tell any of my other friends. Please?"

I knew what she wanted. So I rolled my eyes, and pulled out the latest issue of The Amazing Spider Man. "I won't, like, tell anybody, OK," I said, in an imitation of her accent. "And it's on the house."

Alan raised an eyebrow as Pauly handed me the money for the X-Men comic. She actually smiled a little, a real smile. "Thanks, Edgar," she said, before racing out of the store and jumping into Jock Strap's arms, as if they'd been separated for months, and not just a mere two hours. I watched the whole group, Tiffani included, go join Cindy and this David person. And my blood chilled when I saw who he was. Because he was the head of the vampires.

"I knew we should have learned their names," I said to Alan as we were closing shop. "For all we know, Tiffani could be drained of all her blood right now."

"Or Taylor," Alan muttered. "Yeah," I said. "Wait- what?"

"I didn't say anything," Alan said. "Oh," I replied. "But I mean I wouldn't wish that fate upon Pauly Holland, for God's sake." I shuttered. "It's terrifying to think about how much bare skin she has exposed. I mean, all one of them would have to do is lean over and bite right into her neck."

Alan shrugged, even though he looked worried too. "They have Jock Strap with them, right? I mean, he's a pretty strong guy."

I shook my head. "Yeah, but those bloodsuckers are smarter and quicker than him. He could get killed too."

Alan looked at me for a minute, before shouting out, "I've got the perfect idea! It's gonna kill us but we have to do it."

"What? What," I asked.

"You know how Pauly was talking about that 'random act of kindness' bullshit? What if we accepted?"

I groaned. "I don't like where this is going."

Alan kept going, though. "No, no, hear me out. So, we say that we want to get hooked out with Tiffani and Taylor. And if she doesn't, we're coming out with the Spider-Man secret. So through that, we infiltrate their little nouveau-riche clique, and we can protect them from the inside."

"OK, OK," I said. "For one thing, I'm pretty sure the term you mean is hooked up. Point two, if we tried to play the blackmail game, we'd lose, because she can make shit up and everyone will believe her. And finally, since when do you wanna get hooked up with Taylor?"

"I dunno. I don't really like her or anything, I just figured if I had to chose from the preppies for this purpose, I'd chose her. It's not quite as deep as your future as Mr. Edgar Bartolini," Alan said with a smirk. "Since Tiffani would definitely have you whipped."

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever, Alan," I muttered.

"OK, so let's go to her house. Right now."

"What the hell are you talking about," I asked.

"It's only ten o' clock. She probably just got home," Alan said. "So let's drop by to see if she was serious." I glared at my older brother, and hated his logical but also impossible theory.

"We can't just go into that neighborhood," I pointed out. "The Neighborhood Watch would send out a White Trash Alert."

"No, they won't," Alan said. "Most of the kids in that area are half-white trash anyway." _Damn his logic_, I thought.

"Fine," I said. "Let's go."

And so we went, into Yuppieville. You can ride a bike anywhere in Santa Carla. In fact, White Trash Land and the Boardwalk are only three blocks away from Pauly's neighborhood, and five blocks from the McMansions. To me, though, the bike ride took forever. When we got to Pauly's house, I rang the doorbell and Mrs. Holland opened the door. She looked drunk, but she smiled and squealed "Hi, boys! You must be here to see..." She looked us up and down. "Pauly or Jeremy?"

"Pauly," we said in unison. "Well, okay, she's upstairs in the sun room," Mrs. Holland slurred cheerily. "Third door on the left." She laughed as we walked up the steps and into the sun room. Boy, was I in for a surprise...


	4. Chapter 3: Pauly

Ch. 3

Pauly's POV

The Frogs came tumbling into my sun room like two drunken psycho lumberjack bears. Alan smirked when he saw me and Edgar averted his eyes. "Oh my god, put some clothes on," he shouted.

It wasn't like I was, like, naked. I had on my bra and panties. It was like a mismatched bikini. "Like, oh my God, Edgar, you're acting like I'm completely naked, and it's not that big a deal, you know? Like you must have seen girls like this on TV or in the movies before."

"Put. Some fucking clothes. On. Now!" Alan moved away from Edgar slightly. "Don't listen to him; you look fine." Edgar rolled his eyes at Alan, still avoiding looking at me.

"I can't believe it. My own big brother's a pervert," he muttered. "No, I'm not," Alan protested. "I just appreciate the female form."

I rolled my eyes (lots of eyes were totally rolling). "I can, like, totally kick your ass, Alan, you know," I pointed out. "Anyway, like, what do you guys want?"

"We changed our minds. About your favor," Alan said. I smirked.

"I, like, knew you guys would, you know? I'm, like, very intuitive, you know," I said. "I'm sure you are," Edgar said all snotty, rolling his eyes.

I chose to, like, ignore him. "So, like, anyway, what do you guys, like, want," I said, tossing my hair.

"Well, I'd like you to put. some clothes. on," Edgar said stiffly. Maybe he's less straight than I thought.

"You know your friends, Tiffani and Taylor," Alan said. "Well, we're kind of into them. And we were hoping you could hook us up."

I examined both of them. They were both kind of cute, I could give them that. But otherwise, there was no way any of my friends would ever, ever go out with either of them. Especially Edgar. He was around Tiffani's height, so that part was OK. But Tiffani only ever dated athletes or student council types or richies. Edgar fell in none of those categories, unless you count bike riding as a sport. And Taylor only dates seniors, which worked in Alan's favor, but he was a little skinnier than most of her boyfriends.

"This is, like, going to take a lot of work," I said. "And I mean, like totally a lot of work. Fer shure."

"We're willing," Alan said, staring at my chest. I think this was, like, the first time either of them ever saw a girl in her underwear in the flesh. "So will you guys, like, meet me after the basketball game tomorrow," I asked.

"Why the hell would we go to the basketball game," Edgar asked, finally looking right at me. "Because I'm a cheerleader, duh," I said. "So are Tiffani and Taylor." I tossed my hair and I'll admit my chest may have bounced a little. Look, they finally became C cups, I had, like, a lot of pride in the girls, okay?

Alan's eyes bugged out of his head. "Look, we can, like, talk a little until, like, midnight, ok? That's my weekday curfew. You guys should've come on Friday; on the weekend I have no curfew."

Edgar rolled his eyes. "We can stay," Alan said. "Yeah, just put some clothes on," Edgar said.

"Fine," I sighed. "If you're, like, going to be, like, such a baby about it." I went into my room and threw on my denim vest with fuzzy pink sleeves, my red and black striped cropped tube top, and my matching miniskirt. When I came out, they both looked me up and down. Alan looked confused, and Edgar still looked annoyed, but then again Edgar always looks annoyed.

"Why are you wearing a headband as a shirt," Alan asked. "This is, like, a tube top," I pointed out, exasperated. I turned towards Edgar. "Better?"

He sighed. "Not much, but it will have to do." So I flopped down on my bed.

"OK, so, like, have either of you ever had, like, girlfriends before," I asked. They both shook their heads.

"I've kissed girls before," Alan put in.

"OK, how about you, Edgar?" He looked on the ground, sort of embarrassed. "Not really," he muttered.

"OK," I said. "Come on, sit here," I said, patting the spot next to me. Edgar sort of trudged over and sat down.

"We should, like, practice," I said. "You mean, I have to kiss you," Edgar said, sounding disgusted. I rolled my eyes at him.

"It's not that bad. It's for, like, practice, so it doesn't, you know, count. And, like, besides, I don't want to, like, kiss you either. I mean, in seventh grade, you, like totally threw a dead frog organ from the biology lab at me, you know?"

"That was a white coffee bean," he said. "I didn't think you would assume it was a frog heart and faint."

"Anyway, let's, like, get this over with," I sighed. And then I kissed him. He almost immediately slipped his tongue in, and then, I, like, couldn't believe it, but I was actually enjoying it, you know? He sort of started lying on top of me, and then we had, like, pretty much gone from kissing to making out. I pulled back, though, because I'm, like, in love with Jack.

"You've really never done that before," I asked, because, like, oh my God, Edgar Frog was, like, actually a very good kisser.

"Nope," he said. "You know," Alan said. "I was lying. I've never kissed a girl. And I've never touched a boob either. So can we do that?"

I rolled my eyes, and turned on MTV. A Debbie Gibson video was on, "Only in My Dreams."

"Change the channel," Edgar said. "Dear God, just change the channel." I was already ahead of him. I turned on one of the HBO channels, and _Animal House_ was on. "Oh my God," I said. "I am, like, so tired of Debbie Gibson, you know?"

Edgar smirked a little. "I can actually agree with you there." So we end watching the movie for a while. And then, something, like, really weird happened. I think that it's, at least plausible, that Edgar, like, totally started playing footsie with me. I looked at him when he started doing it and he turned bright red. Guilty as charged.

"Well," he coughed. "Me and Alan better start heading back. I mean, it's almost midnight." They started climbing out of my bedroom window, and I shook my head.

"You guys can just, like, go down the steps. My parents don't care." So off they went, out of my room and the house. "Bye-e, guys," I called out as they left the house. I looked at my framed picture of Jack, with his brown hair waving in the wind and his teeth practically shining. I knew I had to face the facts. _You might have enjoyed kissing Edgar, but you love Jack. And that's what I kept telling myself._


	5. Chapter 4: Alan's POV

Ch. 4

Alan's POV

"I can't believe you're in love with a girl who says 'Bye-e," I said to my brother as we biked back home.

"What," he shouted.

"Come on, man, admit it. You've got a crush on Pauly, don't you? And you channel your feelings into Tiffani because they look alike?" I liked getting my younger brother all riled up sometimes, just for fun. Maybe he actually does have a crush on Pauly, maybe he doesn't. It's fun teasing him though. He started listing all of these reasons why he'd never date Pauly: she was shallow, her canines looked like fangs, she was a brat, she was too tall, she was a mindless follower, etc.

"Anyway, if anyone has a crush on her, it's you," Edgar said. I shrugged.

"I appreciate how she looks. I couldn't listen to her talk for over an hour," I admitted. "She's sort of nice though. In her own 'Future Yuppie of America' kind of way."

I knew I didn't have a crush on her, even if she did have a nice rack. I did feel stupid for acting like such a jerk, but I'd never really a girl in even a bathing suit up close before. Even though there's a beach right here in town, I hadn't really gone since elementary school.

"Well, we're going to have get used to her talking, thanks to your 'master plan,'" Edgar said, still sounding pissed that I could even suggest that he has a crush on Pauly. _Methinks my brother doth protest too much_.

"I can't believe we have to go to a basketball game," Edgar groaned. "Nice going, Alan." I rolled my eyes at him.

"Edgar, it's not that big of a deal," I told him. "Besides, you'll get to watch Tiffani and Pauly jump up and down, and I'll watch... well, the rest of the cheerleaders. And basketball is supposed to be exciting to watch."

"Yeah," Edgar grumbled. "Watching a bunch of Neanderthals chasing after a little ball should be a life changing experience." I shook my head. "Come on, man, keep your eyes on the prize. The closer we are to Pauly, the closer we are to Cindy. And the closer we are to her, the closer we are to David." Edgar sighed wearily as we stopped in front of our house. "Fine," he said. "But I'm telling you now, this better be worth it."

* * *

The basketball game was about as exciting as Edgar guessed it would be. Halftime was sort of fun, though, like watching the Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders. Apparently, we're the Santa Carla Sharks, and our cheerleaders aren't called cheerleaders. They're the "cheer squad" even though they carry poms poms, and wear short skirts like other cheerleaders. If they were a squad, I'd hope they'd be less smiley and would say more that "C'mon, let's go" from the sidelines and "Go Sharks" at the end of their halftime dance number. I learned other stuff too. Like the words to the school song. And the official school colors are "ebony and scarlet", not just black and red. After the game, Pauly came running up the bleachers towards us.

"Hey, guys, are you, like, ready to go to the mall?" Edgar sighed. "I'm never ready to go to the mall, but OK, whatever," Edgar said.

"Like, oh my God, you guys," she shouted at her friends. "You know that project I was telling you guys about? They're coming with us." Edgar rolled his eyes and trudged after Pauly, who quickly raced back into Jock Strap's arms. I followed them both.

"Come on," she said cheerily. "I, like, want you guys to ride in the Ferrari with me and Jack." She nodded to her boyfriend, as Edgar watched Tiffani hop into a Mercedes with the other girls.

"You guys, like, know Jack, right? And Jack, I've like, told you about them, like, tons, right?" Jock Strap nodded. "Yeah, I think so." He looked at us. "Hey, dudes," he said. "I don't care if you're, like, Pauly's friends and shit, but if I, like, catch either of you staring at her ass, you dudes are dead." I shrugged, and Edgar rolled his eyes. "Is that all you two do," Jock Strap asked. "Shrug and roll your eyes? I should call you guys 'Shrugs' and 'Rolls Eyes'."

Pauly giggled, and then turned to us. "Isn't he great, you guys?" Jock Strap glared at us. We nodded nervously. "Yeah, he seems real, uh, cool," Edgar said. We weren't about to argue with either of them, since Jock Strap's about 6'3", 225 pounds of muscle and looks like he could murder either one of us in a minute. We walked to Jock Strap's car, and once inside, a thick silence fell over most of us, but not Pauly. Pauly is obviously the most oblivious person ever to walk the face of the Earth, because instead of sitting next to Jock Strap, up front, she had me sit next to him, and plopped down in back next to Edgar. It was like she wanted Jock Strap to kill him.

"Isn't this car, like, so cosmic, you guys," she squealed. Jack's dad got it for his sixteenth birthday, and it can go soooo fast!" "Yeah, it goes at 88 miles an hour," Jock Strap said, smirking. "Do you guys even have cars?" "Nope," we both said. "Your car's cool," Edgar said, sucking up in hopes that Jock Strap wouldn't kick his ass.

We finally pulled into the mall parking lot about two minutes later, and Pauly practically dragged all three of us to the food court to meet up with everyone. The usual suspects of Pauly's girlfriends and the captains of all our school teams were gathered. Jock Strap immediately engaged in some car-related conversation with his fellow sport heads. "They're, like, always talking about their cars," Tiffani said, sounding bored. "It's, like, totally annoying." Edgar sort of looked down at his feet, like he wasn't sure if she was talking to him or not.

She looked up at us. "You guys don't, like, care about that stuff, right?" We both shook our heads. Edgar was actually turning pink. "Oh, like, thank God. If these guys were any more into cars, they'd be taking them to prom."

The other girls nodded. "So," Debbie said. "Like, which one's which? I mean, it's obvious you're brothers, but, like, who's Edgar and who's Alan?"

"Oh," Pauly said. "That's Alan." she pointed at me. "And the other one's Edgar." "OK," Debbie said. "Your parents, like, own the comic shop at the boardwalk, right?" We nodded. "My little brother, like, always goes there," she squealed. "He never, like, mentions you guys though."

I felt someone tap on my shoulder and I turned around. "You guys sold out," Janet Anderson shrieked angrily. Janet is the school's resident angry alterna-bitch. "I thought you guys were different," she went on whining. "You guys have sold your souls to the consumers of United Colors of Benneton!"

Pauly stood up and sauntered over to Janet. "You know what, Janet? Why don't you just, like, leave them alone?" Janet stepped up closer to Pauly, until they were practically nose-to-nose. "Maybe you've tricked the Frogs," she rasped. "But I'm not afraid of you, Paula."

"Don't. Call. Me. That," Pauly snapped. And then Janet did something stupid. I didn't know how stupid it was at first. She flicked Pauly in the face. Pauly snapped. "Why don't you just FUCK OFF, JANET," she shouted. Even the jocks broke out of their deep conversation to look up. Janet looked at us. "You guys," she said, chuckling and shaking her bald head. "I hope you're happy. I'm telling you, it's pathetic that you suddenly want anything to do with her." She stared at Edgar. "You've become real taken with her boob job, huh?"

Before he could respond, Pauly grabbed Janet by the shirt collar and pulled her into her face again. "First things first, bitch, these are fucking real. I don't give a shit if it makes you happy to think they aren't, but you don't have the right to spread lies about me. I may have done some bitchy things to you, but I have never made any dumb shit about you. And secondly, you don't have the right to fuck with my friends. They have the right to do whatever the fuck they want without you getting in their faces with your whole 'Rebel Yell' agenda. Because you know what your problem is, Janet? I'm a brat; I can admit that. But you can't, and you're as bad as me. And that is why everyone here just wants you to fuck off."

Janet pouted. "You know," she said. "I should get you angry more often. You actually almost drop all the 'likes' and 'you knows'." Pauly finally did I'd been waiting for. She punched Janet in the head.

"You just don't know when to shut the fuck up, huh, Janet," she shouted as Wannabe Sinead O'Connor scurried away. She turned back to her friends, which I guess included us. Tiffani, Debbie, Taylor, and Cindy started applauding. When they were done, Cindy smiled at us.

"You know, guys, I think it's great that we're all branching out. I mean Pauly with the Frog brothers, me with David. It's just making our group so much more interesting." I had no idea if that was an insult or a compliment.

"Well, I think these guys are all right," Jock Strap yelled. He raised up his flask, and Pauly rolled her eyes. "Like, ohmigod, Jack, put that down," Taylor squealed. "The mall cops will totally catch you guys!"

Cindy turned to Pauly. "So, like, what do you wanna, like, do, next?" Pauly look tired as she stared back at Cindy. "I, like, feel totally worn out. I think I just wanna go home." The other guys heckled her. "Awwww, come on, Pauly, you're no fun!"

Tiffani turned to the jocks. "You guys, Pauly's just, like, experienced a traumatic moment. She had to, like, talk to Can-it for God's sake." She turned towards us. "Thank God you guys were here. Otherwise, Janet never would've showed up and Pauly never would, like, have told Janet where she could go, you know?" "Oh, no problem," Edgar said, like he had any more of an idea what she was talking about than I did.

"Besides," Pauly said, trying to change the subject. "Maybe you and David could have, like, some alone time." Debbie perked up. "Or I could come with you! I never got to talk to David last time! Please, Cindy, like, let me come. I, like, totally promise not to, you know, like, embarrass you or anything."

"OK, OK, you can come," Cindy said, sounding resigned to going somewhere without her "best" friend. I had also observed that your best friend was really just whatever girl you thought was the best looking of your friends without showing you up. Debbie wasn't better looking than Cindy, or even Pauly, but she was easier, according to the word around school. I could say the 'word' was probably true by the way she was hiking up her miniskirt and readjusting her tank top. Edgar gave me a look, but I shook my head. There was no way those girls were letting us hang with them, at least not without Pauly. Until she taught us how to win over Tiffani and Taylor, or at least until we knew the in's and out's of the preppies, our only way into anything was Pauly.

"How are you planning to get home," Taylor asked. "I hope you don't think Jack can drive you home. And besides, someone has to take him home." "I could do it," I said. "I've got my license."

"For real," Pauly said, lighting up. "You're willing to do it?" "Sure," I said. "We'll drop off his car, and then we'll drop you off at your place. You guys are right across from the street from each other, right?" "OK," Pauly nodded. "Let's go then. I don't want him to, like, puke at the mall. But if he, like pukes in his own car, that's okay."

She looked at both of us as we started walking out to the parking lot. "It'll teach him not to drink so much on a Friday night. I don't like to, like, waste my Fridays by forgetting them, you know? That's what, like, Saturday is for." I managed to not chuckle at that statement as I pulled Jock Strap's keys out of his denim jacket pocket and climbed into his car. He was so wasted, he didn't even protest, just threw himself in the backseat with Pauly and Edgar on both sides of him. On the way home, I learned some more fun facts about being a preppie. Like, did you Jock Strap is a very affectionate drunk?

For example, when his girlfriend rejects his attempt at a make out session because he "like, has wine cooler breath", he'll begin stroke his fellow male back seat mate's 'sexy' hair until said male punches him in the neck. Then Jock Strap will begin to lick the driver's ear, causing said driver to crash into the Donnellys' mailbox.

Also, you know how vomit smells? Well, it turns out alcohol-induced vomits smells about ten times worse when Jock Strap turned the heat on in his car even though it's only fifty-eight degrees outside. By the time we finally got to Jock Strap to his house, I was ready to kiss the ground. He stumbled out of the car and immediately passed out.

Pauly rolled her eyes, and said, "I know how to handle this." She gestured to us. "You guys can, like, carry him to the back porch and rest him on the back swing there, right? And I'll, like, drive his car into the driveway, OK? I have my permit, you know." We both nodded as we lifted him out of the car.

"He's less heavy than I thought he'd be," Edgar whispered as we laid him down on the porch swing. "Why are you whispering," I asked. "We don't know how passed out Jock Strap is," he said. "And I don't want him to wake up." I nodded as we raced out to the front of the house, hoping not to be seen by Mrs. Pratt, who was in the kitchen facing the back window.

Pauly waved at us. "You know, I was, like, thinking, you guys, and I so totally do not need to let Janet ruin my Friday night. And, I mean it's only, like, seven thirty. The night is young, so why don't I, like, come to the Boardwalk with you guys? I mean, I'm, like, totally willing to hang at the comic shop. And besides, there's like so much stuff I need to help you guys with the project. So can I come?"

I looked at Edgar, and to my surprise, he nodded. "Yeah, sure, but we're gonna have to walk, you know," Edgar said. Pauly smiled tightly. "I guess I could, like, use the exercise," she said, sounding sort of annoyed. "It's only three blocks anyway." _Not much had really changed about Pauly,_ I thought. _But there was different about her lately._

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**A/N: Please send reviews! I know I've got a history of abandoning stories, but they weren't coming out the way I planned. The words didn't come as easily with those as they have with this one. So please check this out and leave your thoughts.**


	6. Chapter 5: Edgar's POV

**A/N: So far I would like to thank:**

**MadeInThe90s**

**mickishai2000**

**thexlastxfantasy**

**EvilFalconofDoom**

**for reviewing my story**

**Also, I'd like to leave a very special notice: this chapter was going to be longer. It was going to feature a scene where "The Homecoming Queen's Got a Gun" (a Julie Brown song) is also viewed on the MTV screening as well as the violent death of Debbie, one of the preppies. The latter has been given its own chapter, but the former was edited out because I thought it would insensitive after the Sandy Hook Elementary shooting. I honestly hope that no one reading this has been personally affected by this tragedy. **

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Chapter Five

Edgar's POV

"OK, so I'm, like, going to look you guys over, you know? Like, to analyze you guys," Pauly said. I raised my eyebrows.

"What are you talking about," I asked.

She gestured for me to come over. When I got over there, Pauly leaned right into my face. She looked like she was in actual thought, which forced me to sniff to see if anything was burning. After a couple awkward seconds passed by, she told me to turn around, while she kept looking at me. Then she backed up a little.

"OK, Alan, it's your turn," she said.

"Thank God," I muttered as Alan came over. I watched her do the same thing to him, but Alan just smirked the whole time.

"OK, I'm done," she said. "If things were only based on your looks, you guys wouldn't be so bad off. I mean, you both have nice eyes and great smiles. So, like, I think the main problem is you guys have, like, no idea how to act around girls, you know?"

I looked at Pauly as she sat up on the counter, and then I knew how to get some information out of her.

"Hey, Pauly," I asked casually. "Not to change the subject or anything, but I was just wondering: what's up with this college guy you guys keep talking about?"

Pauly blinked slightly, like she didn't know what I was talking about.

"You know," I said. "David. Is he Cindy's boyfriend or something?"

"Oh, David," she said in realization. "Yeah, he and Cindy have been going out since, like, the beginning of the school year. He, like, goes to USC, and he's, like, totally rad. And he has this cool friend Marko, who, like, all my friends were all over, but I wasn't because I love Jack. Anyway, you guys have to meet him sometime, I mean, he knows about, like, all the coolest things, and he's, like, going to take us to his frat sometime. And I mean, he's just like the wildest looking guy I've ever meet. He's got, like, white hair like Billy Idol, and all his clothes are black leather, and I mean, if I didn't love Jack, I totally would be, like, dating him."

I don't why, but it really annoyed me how she kept talking about Jock Strap like he was this great guy instead of the asshole I saw him be everyday. And not to mention how she acted like the head of the vampires was this god among gods.

"How do you know you're in love with Jack," I asked, putting air quotes around "in love." Looking back, I probably either sounded gay or jealous. Or gay and jealous of Pauly.

Pauly sighed. "You just, like, know these things, Edgar. I mean, Jack and I have been dating since, like, seventh grade, and I knew when he, like totally smiled at me right before he threw the winning touchdown at the eighth grade championship game. It was our first anniversary, too, so it was, like, a sign, you know? And tomorrow night, we were, like, planning to finally do it, but now he'll probably be too hungover."

"Clichés don't mean you're in love," I pointed out. "Besides, what do you guys even talk about?"

"Tons of stuff," Pauly said indignantly. "Like his car, and his football team, and his parents, and stuff he likes. But I mean, we talk about me too. Sometimes. On the phone. And I mean, sure, we mostly make out a lot. But that just means there's still passion in our relationship, okay?"

"You talk like you guys are married or something," Alan said.

"We probably will get married," Pauly shot back. "I mean, he's met my whole family, and they all like him. And plus, he helps me grow. I mean, he saw, like, how fat my grandmother was, and now he makes sure I don't eat certain stuff, because, I mean, he's like one of the hottest guys in school, so it's not like he can date a lardass, you know?"

"Well, gee, Pauly, when you put it that way, Jock Strap sounds like a real prince."

Pauly glared at me, but I could see that she was almost smiling. "What did you just call Jack," she asked.

"Nothing," I said nervously. She was going to tell Jock Strap, and then he was going to kill me, I just knew it.

"You called him Jock Strap," Pauly snapped, but then she dissolved into giggles.

"He really is a jock strap sometimes," she laughed. I was confused.

"You don't mind that we call him that," I asked.

"No," she said. "I'm kind of pissed at him right now. Even though I love him." I actually managed not to gag this time, which means I might actually like Pauly as a friend to some extent.

"So, anyway," she asked. "Why do you like Tiffani?"

"Because she's unique," I said. "She seems different from the rest of you guys. No offense."

"None taken," Pauly swallowed. "And Alan? Why do you like Taylor?"

"I dunno," he replied. "She's pretty."

"That's a good reason," Teeny said, without a trace of sarcasm. "They don't know why we're doing this. So they don't know that you guys like them or anything. But Alan, Debbie and Taylor both think you're cute. They usually think, like, all the seniors are cute. And they, like, said, you seemed really shy, and sensitive and mysterious. Oh, and Tiffani said you might be okay, Edgar."

"Well, that's a ringing endorsement," I muttered.

"Anyway," Pauly went on, ignoring me. "There's this test I want to try out on you guys. Do you have a TV here?"

"Yeah," Alan said. "It's under the counter."

Pauly pulled up the mini TV set and adjusted the antenna, before turning on MTV.

"Whoa, how'd you get cable on here," Alan asked.

"You just adjust the antenna to pick the signal," Pauly explained. "Anyway, so who is that?"

She pointed at these two guys in neon shorts dancing and singing like girls. It was this song that I had managed to block out of my head, "Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go."

"It's two gay guys," I answered, not remembering the name of the group.

"It's Wham!," Pauly corrected. "And George Michael is not gay. If George Michael asked me to, I would murder my little brother for him."

"Well, you're going to be in for a huge disappointment when he comes out," I said.

"He. Is. Not. Gay," Pauly persisted. "Do not speak such blasphemy about him."

The video finally went off, thank God, and switched to a Ramones video, "I Wanna Be Sedated."

"I actually don't know which video this is," Pauly said, sounding genuinely confused. I stared at her in shock.

"They're the Ramones," I said.

"Oh. Who?"

"The Ramones," I said again slowly. "They're only the greatest punk rock group of all time, Pauly."

She was quiet for a minute, intent on watching the video. Then she turned to me.

"They are really good," Pauly admitted before turning back to the TV screen.

"Really good," I said, shocked. "The Ramones are amazing!"

"Wow," Pauly said. "I've never seen you this fired up about something that wasn't vampires, comic books, or me putting clothes on."

"Well, I mean, I just really like the Ramones," I said, embarrassed for dorking out.

"They are really cool," Pauly said. "The Ramones, I mean."

I looked at her. Sometimes I wonder if it was wrong that I was using Pauly and her friends. Then I'd tell myself they'd use me in a heartbeat, except for, maybe, Tiffani. But it was wrong to leave them so naive. I needed a subtle way to clue them in.

"Here, Pauly," I said, pulling out an issue of Vampires of the World. It was one of the more pathetic vampire comics I had ever seen, so it wouldn't be too hard to let go.

"I want you to have this. It'll be a good laugh."

"Yeah," Pauly said with a smile. "It looks stupid. I'll check it out, maybe show it to my younger brother."

We kept doing the video quiz thing for a while. I didn't know most of the artists, except for the hair metal bands and the Beastie Boys. The little bell rang and a brunet elf-like boy walked in. It was Jeremy Holland, Pauly's little brother.

"Hey, Pauly, what are you doing here," Jeremy asked.

"Why are you out so late," Pauly hissed.

"Oh, chill," he said. "It's only nine o' clock. But I guess time seems so much longer when you're with the Frog Prince here."

"Look, what do you want, you little cretin," Pauly asked.

"To discuss what my friend Gary saw," Jeremy said. "It seems that Jacky Boy might have a little bit of competition."

"Jeremy, shut. Up," Pauly growled. "Edgar's just my friend, no matter what your little troll of a friend tells you."

"Really," Jeremy said. "Because Gary said he saw you show up at the comic shop dressed like a hooker and you kept making do-me eyes at good old Eddie the Grouch here."

"Get outta here if you're not going to buy something," I said, embarrassed. "And it wasn't like that. Your sister's doing me and Alan a favor."

Alan shook his head, knowing what was coming.

"What kind of favor," Jeremy asked, "A third base favor?"

"Jeremy, I swear to God, I will murder you if you don't shut up," Pauly said.

"OK, OK," Jeremy said, holding up his hands in mercy. "Whatever, I'll let you have your little Frog brother orgy, and I'm not telling Jack. See ya, bye!"

Jeremy raced out of the store in fear of his sister.

"He is such a brat," Pauly said before turning towards both of us. "I should make sure he has a ride home. I'll be right back, OK?"

Pauly raced out after her brother, blushing faintly. Looking back, it's too bad I couldn't have sensed that something much worse than a confrontation with Jeremy Holland was going to happen tonight.


	7. Chapter 6: David's POV

Ch. 6

David's POV

"I'm going to check my makeup, okay," Cindy said, getting up and giving me a kiss on the cheek. Somehow, I had ended up at the local Jack in the Box with Cindy, Marko, and one of her brainless friends, Debbie. Debbie spoke with a breathless voice, probably thinking it made her seem sexy. Instead, she sounded ridiculous. She had dishwater blonde hair, a wide nose, small brown eyes, and big lips. In a group of regular girls, Debbie would be considered fairly attractive, but within Cindy's group of friends, Debbie was definitely the ugly friend. As soon as Cindy left, Debbie slid over to my side of the booth.

"So, guys," she said. "Want to, like, ditch the wet blanket and, you know, go back to my place?"

"Uh, no thanks," I replied, trying to sound like a pathetic college yuppie.

"Come on," Debbie whined.

She then leaned in and whispered, "I, like, know your secret, David." _Shit_, I thought. She was either a wannabe vampire or a wannabe hunter. She rose from the booth.

"Meet me in the alleyway," she said before she left.

"Go ahead," Marko said. "It's a free snack, even if she tries to kill you." I shrugged, acting like I didn't care.

"Okay then, I'll go out there," I agreed before going out to the alleyway. I wondered if Debbie was at school on the day they had the rape talk. If they were, I wondered how they missed "Don't go in strange alleyways with guys you barely know."

I saw Debbie leaned up against a Dumpster. "David," she said. "I know you're, like, a vampire. And I, like, think that is so fucking hot, you know?"

I noted the cross necklace she was wearing and then I had an idea. "Here," I said, pulling out the vial of blood I kept in my jacket pocket. "Drink this and you'll become a half vampire."

"But, how do, like, I become a full vampire, though," Debbie whined.

"You suck someone's blood," I replied. "But you gotta drink this first."

"Okay," she said, before chugging it down. Her transformation was quick. She ran her fingers across her teeth.

"I have fangs," she squealed. She didn't notice the sizzling around her neck.

"Ow, this kind of hurts," she finally noticed before looking down at her chest.

"Like, oh my God, I'm burning! David, what's happening?"

I smirked as she began to burn away. "Nice necklace, Debbie."

She let out an agonizing scream as she died. Maybe what I did was a little sociopathic, but it didn't even leave behind a body. She melted like the Wicked Witch of the West. I threw her clothes in the Dumpster and raced back into the Jack in the Box. When I sat back down in the booth, Cindy was glaring at me.

"Where's Debbie," she asked. "I, like, need to talk to her. And then I need to talk to you."

I shook my head. "That girl is messed up. She started blubbering about how she was running away and catching a bus to Washington DC to meet some thirty-year-old man she wrote to in the personals."

Marko slapped his hand over his face. Okay, so maybe that was a horrible excuse. But I was short on time and in some ways Cindy scared me. But then I remembered how stupid she was when she said, without a trace of sarcasm: "That makes sense. I mean, I know Debbie's, like, my friend and all, but she's, like, a total mess. So, like, did she go?"

I nodded, getting a headache listening to her talk. "OHMIGOD," Cindy screeched before running to the pay phone outside with her purse.

Thirty minutes later, Cindy raced back. "So, like, okay, I'm sorry, but, I mean, I had to call Debbie's parents, and I, like, had to hang up because they started crying or whatever, so I, like, called all my friends, and let them know, and then I told the Frogs because I had to call the comic shop because that's where my best friend Pauly was, and the Frogs are, like, her charity project, but they're sort of, like, our friends, but really more Pauly's friends then ours. And I had to tell them to tell her. So anyway, that's what took me so long."

"Really," Marko said sarcastically. "I figured you were handling a drug deal out there."

Cindy scoffed, and then turned to me. "Do we, like, really have to deal with him, David?"

I just shrugged. "Come on," I said. "I dealt with Debbie."

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever," she said with an melodramatic sigh. "Well, aren't you going to, like, drive me home, David?"

I nodded. "Sure, I just have to talk to Marko first. Can you go wait in your car?"

She nodded. "Like fer shur," she agreed, before licking my ear (disgusting) and leaving.

"We're going to eat her, right," Marko asked desperately.

"Probably," I answered. She was starting to annoy me.

"So then why are you playing with the food," Marko asked.

I shrugged again. "It's fun," I said. "Besides, I just killed her friend, and that was pretty entertaining."

"What'd you do to her," Marko said, fascinated.

"I turned her and she burned herself with her cross necklace."

Marko snickered. "Man, I wish I had seen that. Did it leave a corpse?"

"Nope," I said. "She just melted."

"Cool," Marko said. "Man, you should have taken a Polaroid or something."

"She was a half vampire," I pointed out. She wouldn't have shown up."

"So who's next," Marko asked. "I was thinking of the tall one, Pauly."

I thought about it. "Nah," I said. "She runs too fast. She'll get away and tell somebody before we can do anything."

"So how about the one with the black hair, Taylor?"

I nodded. "Yeah, she'll do."

I looked at my watch. "We'd better get the brat home. We only have a few hours of night left, and I want to have some fun."

We got up, ready to drive Cindy home. I didn't notice Pauly standing off in the distance, having made sure her little brother got home. She was suspicious, even though she hadn't seen anything, hadn't even heard the news yet. I didn't know just how smart Pauly was.


	8. Chapter 7: Edgar's POV

Ch. 7

Edgar's POV

"I don't dance."

There are many things Pauly Holland could make me do through the power of persuasion, even though her only two tools were Tiffani and her surprising ability to throw me into a headlock before I even knew what was happening. But she could beat me up right in front of Tiffani at this point. I would ask my high-as-kites parents to chaperone a school field trip before I would dance. Hell, I would dive into a vampire feeding frenzy buck naked before I would dance.

"Come on," she said. "None of the other guys dance, and we all hate that. We just want one straight guy to dance with us. Besides, you'll have to learn quickly, because I won't be able to help you much for the first half hour of Cindy's party tomorrow. Me and Jack are going to do it."

I rolled my eyes.

"Don't you think thirty minutes is a bit too optimistic," Alan asked.

"Well, God," Pauly snapped. "I'm not that stupid. I'm allowing ten minutes to get ready, ten for foreplay, and then ten for sex."

"Don't you think ten minutes is a bit too optimistic," I asked. "I mean, knowing Jack, I'd bet on about five. And foreplay is really dreaming."

Pauly sighed dramatically but smiled a little. "Fine, so I'll be busy for fifteen minutes."

She pointed at us. "You guys are still dancing, though."

"Why do we have to dance," I asked again. "I mean, it's stupid. And besides, it's a party; shouldn't we just get drunk?"

"Well, yeah," Pauly admitted. "But not too drunk. Like, don't get as drunk as Jack gets, because that's annoying."

She hopped off the counter, where she was seated. "So," she asked. "Who wants to learn first?"

I shrugged. "I might as well get it over with," I sighed.

"OK, great," Pauly said, smiling and popping a Yaz cassette into her pink mini boom box. As far as I could tell, she carried that thing more often than she carried a purse. She fast forwarded the tape to the song she wanted.

_Looking from a window above  
it's like a story of love  
Can you hear me  
Came back only yesterday  
I'm moving farther away  
Want you near me_

_All I needed was the love you gave  
All I needed for another day  
And all I ever knew  
Only you_

"Okay," Pauly said. "You'll only have to worry about slow songs. As soon those come on, we all try to get our boyfriends to dance with us, but they'd rather go to the pool outside. So if you dance with Tiffani, you'll be so in there."

"So what do I have to do," I asked. "I mean, I know what it looks like, but am I supposed to hold her a certain place?"

Pauly nodded. "OK, you need practice," she said, almost to herself. She rested her hands on my shoulders. She actually wasn't wearing heels, so she was about my height, maybe a little taller.

"You can put your hands on my hips," Pauly said in a strange tone of voice. It was actually shy. If I didn't know any better, I'd say Pauly was starting to have a crush on me, which was not okay. She moved closer towards me, and rested her head on my shoulder, wrapping her arms around my neck. I looked at her as we just stood there, swaying. She kept looking at me too and smiling, so I decided to open my mouth and ruin this moment or whatever this was.

"You know, Pauly," I said. "Looking at you this closely, I can see your acne."

Pauly smiled tightly. "You know, Edgar," she said. "Being this close to you makes me want to puke."

We were quiet after that, though. I started getting this weird feeling in my stomach, and that scared me a little.

"So this is what it should feel like," she said nervously, starting to pull back at the end of the song, thank God.

"So she'll let me do that," I asked, avoiding the question I really had, which was "What the hell was that thing we had going for a minute and why was I enjoying it?"

"Well, yeah," Pauly said. "I mean it's not like you'll be rubbing your crotch all over her or something. It's just like you're giving her a hug for two to six minutes."

I raised my eyebrows at her. "Do you literally time everything," I asked.

"Yeah," Pauly said defensively. "It makes things easier to describe, okay?" She bit her lip slightly. It made Pauly look sort of like a little kid, but in a cute way (_shit_).

"It's neurotic," I said.

She shrugged. "Like obsessing over vampire comics isn't?"

"You watch," I said. "One of those could save your life."

"Trust me," Pauly said. "I've made it into AP Chemistry. Vampires are a scientific impossibility."

"I can't believe it," Alan muttered. "That girl's in AP Chemistry, and I might not even graduate this year."

Pauly rolled her eyes. "Anyway, if you guys have plans, clear 'em," she said. "Cindy's party's at eight, and if you guys are there, I'll-"

"You'll what," I asked.

She smirked. "I'll give you a hair cut."

I winced and subconsciously touched my hair nervously.

"Yup, I'll give you a nice crew cut," Pauly went on. "I'll even break into your trailer while you're sleeping if I have to."

"Fine," I muttered. "We'll get our parents to watch the store that night."

"Oh, you've got a Samson complex, eh," Pauly said delightedly, giggling.

"You're twisted," I said. "You're a sadist. A neurotic, sad, twisted, sadist."

Pauly smirked. "Whatever, Sammy," she replied. "I have to get to going anyway. I need to start picking out outfits for tomorrow night and stuff."

She gave us both a kiss on the cheek and then skipped out of the store. "Bye-e," she shouted again.

"Man, I'm glad she's gone," Alan said.

I let out a sigh of relief. "Yeah, I know," I said. "I mean, she's not so bad but it was kind of weird having her here."

"Oh, you did your fair share of being weird," Alan muttered.

"What's that supposed to mean," I asked, taking a sip of the Coke I grabbed from under the counter.

"Dude, you could literally cut the sexual tension in here with a knife," Alan said bluntly.

I spit out my Coke. "What," I shouted. "You could not!"

Alan shook his head. "Okay, then," he said. "What did you really notice when you guys were dancing, then?"

"That Pauly has a really nice smile," I said distractedly. "I mean, that her nose looks even bigger when she smiles."

Alan smirked. "Yeah, sure, Edgar," he said, teasing. "I can tell you guys want to jump each other's bones."

"Look," I protested. "If anything, _she_ has a crush on _me_. And I'm definitely not interested."

"You're blushing," Alan sang. If I hadn't been before, I was blushing then. I hated when Alan acted like that.

"I'll admit that she can be cool sometimes," I said. "I might even call her my friend. But I don't have a crush on her."

"Sure you don't," Alan said. We locked up and rode our bikes home. I felt pretty tired when we got home, considering it was one in the morning. I threw myself onto my bed and immediately fell asleep. I must have ate something weird though, because I had a pretty disturbed dream...

* * *

_The sun was shining. It was summer at the boardwalk, and Pauly was out rollerblading as usual. Her hair was soaking wet and it was so long it went down her back. She had a surfboard tucked under her arm, and for once she was by herself. I was standing outside the shop, just watching her. She waved with a huge smile on her face. "Hi, Edgar," she yelled from across the street. I didn't say anything, but I smiled back. Suddenly, storm clouds appeared as David, the head vampire arrived. He slapped his hand over her mouth and dragged her away into a dark alley. I chased after them. When I found them, he had her pressed up against the side of a wall. Her screams were muffled by his hand as he tried to lean into her neck. He didn't have her legs restrained very well though, because she kept kicking him and making it harder for him to bite her. I tried my best to sneak up on him quietly and stake him, but my shoe crunched a leaf. David turned around and hissed at me, releasing Pauly and walking over to me. He was vamped out, and ready to go in for the kill. I pulled out my water gun, and soaked him. He exploded, and blood and guts went everywhere. Pauly screamed. "OHMIGOD," she shouted. "Come on," I said, pulling her by the arm to the comic shop. Once we got there, I sat her down on the floor underneath the counter, and told her everything I knew. "Wow, Edgar," she said. "I never could have imagined this, not even in my wildest dreams. Not even the ones about Tom Cruise." She looked down at her Rollerblades shyly. "You saved my life back there." We looked into each other's eyes, and then I kissed her. This was different then when we made out on her bed last Thursday though. This was special. She pulled back and smiled that beautiful smile again before leaning in and kissing me back. "I love you, Edgar," she whispered sweetly._

* * *

I woke up in a cold sweat just then. My face felt hot, though, when I thought about how I kissed her. I used my tongue, for God's sake. I swore to God I would only do that once with Pauly, so why was I dreaming about it? And more importantly, if that dream meant something, could my only non-Alan friend be in danger? I mean, sure, I may have acted like an asshole towards her most of the time, but that was only because of two reasons: I was being an asshole, and she was being an asshole. That said, there was no way I wanted her to die. I mean, at first, the only reason I had any use for her was because of my crush on Tiffani, and getting closer to the vampires. But now, I really though she was almost cool. She seemed to like me too (as a friend, I mean). I only knew one thing after that: I had to kill David at all costs.


	9. Chapter 8: Pauly's POV

**A/N: The events of the party will be split up between several points of view. For example, this chapter was Pauly's experience, the next one will be David's, etc. Also, keep on sending reviews and private messages to ask questions or just to talk.**

* * *

Ch. 8

Pauly's POV

The Party

The night of Cindy's party, I lost a lot of things. My virginity, my boundaries, my boyfriend, my faith in humanity. By nine o' clock that night, it seemed the only I was going to gain were two point five pounds by the next morning. Not much later, though, things got better after the tumultuous end to my relationship with Jack. But before they got better, they got worse. I spent so much time getting ready that night. I had let my hair fall out of its perm, and pulled my long straight hair back into a long ponytail. I spent at least an hour with Cindy, Taylor and Tiffani trying to pick out an outfit. The first outfit I chose, cuffed jeans, a buttoned flannel shirt over a white t-shirt, a bowler hat, and neon orange Chuck Taylors, was vetoed as too tomboyish. The second outfit I chose, a gray tank top and Calvins was too plain. In fact, most of my wardrobe was vetoed as "just not right for the occasion." Thank God, we finally found this tight lavender sleeveless U-necked dress that came up at least six inches above my knees. Cindy went home to her house to get things ready and to meet David. She thought he was finally going to tell her he loved her tonight. They might even finally have sex too, Cindy said. Unlike me, though, Cindy wasn't a virgin. Last summer at the girls' camp, she lost it to one of the counselors, Jeff. She only really ever hung out with college guys, at least since ninth grade. So, anyway, I tried so hard to get my makeup just right. I ended up going for the natural look, wearing Revlon red lipstick, mascara, concealer, and foundation. I made sure to put a lot of thought into what underwear I wore too. I settled on a lacy black bra and white cotton panties with a little rose on the front. I looked at myself in the mirror, and hoped to God Jack wouldn't react the way Edgar did. Eventually, I nervously dialed the phone. I called Jack first, to make sure he wasn't too hungover to come. His mom picked up, which was a terrifying prospect. I'm pretty sure Jack's mother hates me, almost as much as my own mother does.

"Pratt residence, Marilyn speaking. Who is calling?"

I stuttered a little as I said, "Uh, this is, um, P-Pauly Holland."

"Oh, it's you," she said, sounding annoyed. "Jack, your little friend Paula is on the phone," she yelled, not even having the courtesy to cover the receiver.

A few seconds later, Jack picked up the phone. "Hey, babe," he said.

"Hey," I said, trying to sound flirtatious. "You're coming tonight, right," I asked. "You didn't get grounded right?"

Jack yawned. "Nah, I'm not in trouble," he said. "I'll be there tonight."

"Cool," I said, still trying my hardest to sound casual.

"I hope you don't back out," Jack said. "Or else I don't see things working out between us."

"Oh- oh, okay," I stammered, before hanging up.

Then I called the Frogs, hoping they were still at the comic shop. They hadn't given me their home number for some reason. Alan picked up. "Who's this," he asked.

"Hey, Alan," I said. "It's me, Pauly. Do you guys know how you're going to get there? Because Tiffani is picking up people in her Porsche, so we could swing by your place..."

I realized Edgar must have been listening in, because he grabbed the phone, and said, "No, don't do that! Just swing by the comic shop, and we'll wait outside."

"Okay," I agreed. "And try to wear some normal clothes, okay? Nothing too fancy, just try not to dress like strung-out Vietnam veterans, cool?"

I heard Edgar sigh as if I had asked him to lift and carry Oprah Winfrey to the party or something. "Okay," he said in a sarcastic tone. I could almost see him rolling his eyes.

"See you at seven fifty-five," I asked.

"Yeah," he said. "We'll be there by then."

I heard Alan making kissing noises in the background, and then a loud smack, probably Edgar hitting him.

"Come on," Alan said. "You've done that to me so many times..."

Edgar went back to the phone. "I'll see you there, OK," he said before hanging up the phone.

After calling Tiffani to let her know, I went up to do a final check in my vanity mirror. I saw IT on my face and screamed. It was the most terrifying thing I had ever seen. I wailed, I screamed, I cried like a baby. It was the first time I had ever encountered such a disfigurement: it was a zit. Now you may assume I'm being ridiculous, but I'm not. You see, I have pimples. Every teenager has pimples on at least one region of their face: along their hairline, their forehead, maybe even on their backs. A zit is a different problem. A zit is a gigantic red mountain-sized pimple that can just about ruin your whole face. You can't cover it up with makeup, if you're a girl. And I had to get one right on my chin, on the day I was I was supposed to lose it and become a _puella sine virginitate_. It was sad to think at this point, I thought this would be the lowest point in my epic tale of woe. My mother noticed it first.

"Paula," she said. "What is that on your face?" I was such a wreck that I didn't even get too pissed about her persistent use of the hated name.

"A zit," I muttered.

"It's a damn shame," she cooed condescendingly. "I had such lovely skin when I was your age. Of course, by the time I was fifteen, I had really grown into my looks."

She tapped my chin, and shook her head. "It's too bad you haven't yet. But maybe you'll be like the Ugly Duckling." I could tell she hadn't been drinking; otherwise she would have reeked of chardonnay. So, yes, my mother was just that much of a bitch.

Tiffani honked her horn outside.

"That's for me," I muttered before rushing out of the house to the car. Tiffani had picked up the Frogs and Taylor on the way here, and I slid into the backseat next to Taylor.

"OHMIGOD," Taylor screeched. "Pauly, what's on your face?"

Cue everyone's heads turning towards me. "It's a zit," I mumbled again, more annoyed. The Frogs just shrugged and went back to whatever they were doing, in Alan's case, listening to whatever Taylor was saying, and in Edgar's case, staring at Tiffani. I sunk back into my seat. There was no way I was getting laid tonight.

"I'm so screwed," I said. "And not in the way I want to be."

Alan shrugged. "If Taylor hadn't said anything, I wouldn't have noticed it." _Well, that's a ringing endorsement_, I thought. As far I can tell, Alan never noticed anything other than comic books and maybe Edgar. The Frogs had managed to dress nicely though, or at least Alan had. He had thrown on a blue and white striped shirt over a white t-shirt, and jeans. He'd ditched his beret for a backwards red baseball cap. Edgar was still wearing a camouflage shirt and a black bandanna, but he also wore a pair of beat up looking acid-washed jeans with a leather jacket. When we got there around eight thirty, the party was already in full swing. Jack was waiting for me by the steps. He didn't really put much into this; I could tell from his outfit. He had just thrown on jeans and a denim jacket. He left his jacket open to show he had on no shirt underneath, and had a Trojan blatantly sticking out of his pocket. I waved goodbye to my friends and ran over to Jack.

"We're really going to do it this time, right," Jack said, sounding annoyed. "Of course," I said, really meaning it this time. I followed him upstairs to Cindy's parent's room. He turned off all the lights and closed the shades. I heard his clothes fall onto the ground before he climbed into the bed.

"Well," I heard him say, sounding more annoyed than before. "Aren't you going to take your dress off?"

"I thought you would," I replied.

He sighed again. "What the hell, Pauly? This isn't some movie, this is real life."

I sighed a little, and took my clothes off.

He slipped on the condom, although I couldn't quite figure out how he did it in the dark. "You're on the Pill, right," he asked. "Because if the condom doesn't work, we need a back-up plan."

"I am," I reassured. He turned on the radio, and "Hero Takes a Fall" by the Bangles began to play. He went right at it. It hurt, for one thing, but everyone told me it would, so I was prepared for that. What annoyed was that, if things weren't a movie, why did Jack keep grunting like it was? Oh yeah, and I had to fake it. When he was done, he rolled off and turned on the light.

"Ugh," was the first thing he said. "That thing on your chin looks like a second head." I bit my lip. "And besides, it was so much better with Debbie."

As soon as he said it, he went pale. "Wh-what," I said, my lip shaking.

"I'm sorry, Pauly. I am so sorry; I'm such an idiot."

"D-did you and Debbie fuck," I asked angrily, hoping the answer was no.

He sighed. "Well, I mean, you wouldn't put out, Pauly. What else was I supposed to do?"

I could feel the tears coming. "W-we're over, Jack," I said, quickly pulling on my clothes. "And, just so you know, I faked it."

I left behind my heels so I could run away faster. When I came out of the room, all our friends were applauding for us, knowing how happy tonight was supposed to be for us. I immediately burst into tears and started racing down the steps as Cindy was racing up. She was heading to her own room in tears.

"What happened," I asked through my tears.

"David just, like, dumped me for no reason," she replied. "How about you?"

"Jack," I sniffled, "is a jerk." I burst into sobs and ran to the shed out in Cindy's yard.

When I went inside, I saw Star, this girl who graduated last year in there by herself, sitting on one of the Dunbars' lawn chairs. I knew her from when Cindy was dating one of her friends when we were in eighth grade and Star was a junior. "Hey," she said shyly. "Your name's Pauly, right?"

I nodded my head, and plopped down onto the other lawn chair next to her. I sobbed some more, not caring who was there. Then, after I calmed down, I checked myself in my compact mirror. I saw mascara running down my face, and I cried some more.

"What's wrong," Star asked, sounding concerned. I was pretty sure she thought I was a mental case at this point.

"I-I lost my virginity to-to an asshole," I sobbed. Star managed to coax me into telling her the whole story. "And to top it all off," I finished, "that bitch Debbie left town."

I smoothed back my hair and looked back at Star who was looking at me with pure pity. She just hugged me really quickly. "Thanks," I sniffled, having calmed down a little. "I-I really needed that."

"You'll get over it," she told me. "Not tonight, and maybe not tomorrow, but soon. I mean, at least you can admit he was a jerk."

I nodded. I couldn't speak. "Th-thank you," I said. "For listening. What are you doing in here anyway?"

"Just thinking," Star said wistfully. "There's this guy I just met here, David, but he and his friends were being really weird, and some girl pulled him into one of the closets, so I came in here to be myself. I hate things like this, but some of my friends told me that I just had to come, so here I am."

She shrugged. "You know," I said casually. "David just dumped my friend Cindy out of the blue for no reason. But if you think he seems like a good guy, maybe he had a good reason, you know?"

Star bit her lip, just I did sometimes when someone said something I didn't like, and I couldn't do a damn thing about it.

"I mean, you should, like, see for yourself, okay?"

She nodded. "You're a nice kid, Pauly, you know that?"

"Thanks," I muttered. I didn't want to be a kid really, but if what just happened was a sneak preview of my adulthood, I was so fucked.

When I went back into the party after wiping mascara streaks off my face, Taylor and some other junior girls, Aimee and Kate, waved to me from the living room couch. "Come hang," Aimee yelled.

They were all gathered around Alan as if he were a god. The seniors were rolling their eyes, because they still thought Alan was a dweeb, but the only thing the other girls saw were SENIOR in bright lights above him, and in Kate's case, the wine bottle in her hand probably helped. "So, Pauly," Taylor asked. "You, like, know Alan best. Who do you think he's asking to senior prom?"

Alan rolled his eyes and smiled. "Come on, you guys," he said. "I told you that I might not even go."

"Oh, Alan, don't be silly," Aimee cooed. "You have to go to senior prom; you, like, only get one chance!"

He shrugged. "I might get another one. I mean a lot of teachers have been on my case about grades lately."

They all giggled. "If we're in the same class next year, that'll be so rad," Kate gushed. "But come on, Alan, I'm dying to go to the prom this year, and junior prom is in the gym, and it smells so gross. But senior prom is at the Best Western banquet hall, and it's, like, supposed to be so beautiful, you know? So will you take me?"

I got up and left Alan with his harem. I just wasn't in the mood. I decided to go look for Cindy, but I didn't find in her bedroom. I searched around the house, but I finally found her in the basement with Tiffani, Edgar, and a group of ninth-graders who had taken to him the same way the high school underclassmen had taken to Alan. Edgar seemed much less amused, though.

"So, anyway," their leader, Belinda, was saying, "this year, we're supposed to Santa Carla Junior High's last ninth-grade class."

"They've said that every year since the class of '84," Edgar and I said in unison. We both looked at each other.

"They mean it this time though," another girl, Zanne piped up.

"Hey, guys," a suddenly cheery Cindy shouted. "Let's, like, play seven minutes in heaven."

The ninth-graders squealed excitedly. "Come on, Edgar, sit next to me," Belinda said, snatching him by the wrist, and ordering Zanne to go find other participants.

Eventually, one of the jocks in our class, Ryan, a ton of junior high boys, Alan and the harem, of course, and one of David's scuzzy friends, Dwayne came down the steps into the basement.

"Okay," Cindy said. "So here are the rules: we spin the bottle, you know, and, like, whoever it lands on get to pick someone to go into the closet with them. When you go in there, you, like, get seven minutes to do whatever you want. So let's begin."

Cindy spun the bottle and the first person it landed on was Alan. "I pick Taylor," he said quickly. The other girls who were following Alan pouted as he went in the closet with here. As usual, Cindy nudged one of the junior high boys, Chris, and made him listen in. After two minutes, he held up one finger for first base. Around the four minute mark, he held up two fingers. They didn't go to third, though.

After a few more spins that were mostly just junior high boys, who picked Belinda and Zanne, the bottle landed on a ninth grader named Jake. "I pick Cindy," he said gleefully. She sighed, rolled her eyes at me, and went in the closet with him.

He wasn't very quiet when he spoke in there. "Cindy," he asked. "Will you have sex with me?"

Cindy sighed disgustedly and flew out of the closet. "You have definitely lost your turn," she yelled at him.

A few more uneventful spins went by, with Kate and Aimee picking Alan on their turns, and Belinda and Zanne picking Edgar, who used two out of his three passes.

Edgar's own spin turn came up next. "I pick... Tiffani," he said slowly, while she was flirting with Dwayne.

Her head jerked toward his direction. "Like, okay, fer shure," said Tiffani. "Let's go."

Edgar walked into the closet real stiff, like a zombie, and Tiffani followed him, trying not to laugh. As soon as the door closed, the kid, Chris, ran back over and held up his hand. He raised one finger at the two-minute mark and started snickering quietly when he overheard their conversation. About a half minute in, Tiffani screeched "Ewww," and ran out of the closet.

Edgar ran out and up the basement steps.

"What happened," I asked.

Tiffani looked disgusted as she squealed, "He like totally made a tent in his pants." Everyone else burst into hysterical laughter like this was the latest episode of _Saturday Night Live_.

Alan put his head in his hands and muttered, "Oh, the humanity."

I ran after him and found him sitting on the back porch swing, throwing Mentos at this couple going at it in the bushes. They didn't seem to notice, or if they did, they weren't phased.

"I had these in my pocket, you know," he grumbled, handing me the roll of mints.

"Why didn't you just say that," I asked, popping one in my mouth and handing it back to him.

"Because," he said, popping one into his own mouth. "I don't know. I froze, I guess."

"Look," I said. "We'll just explain to everybody, and they'll all forget about it. It'll be a laugh, even. I mean, it'll work if I bring it up. They'll listen to me."

Edgar nodded, seeming to loosen up. "What happened," he asked. "I mean, I saw you crying."

I tried to smile and shook my head. "Jack was being a jock strap, that's all."

Edgar shook his head. "It's something more than that. Jack's always a jock strap, and it's never made you cry before. At least, not my knowledge."

I shrugged and tried to smile some more, but then I couldn't help it, and I started sobbing. "I'm ugly," I said. "And I wish Jack and Debbie would both die."

Edgar sighed heavily and threw his arm around his around my shoulders. "Okay, first things first, but you're not ugly, you're beautiful, especially if someone stood you next to Debbie. And two, as far as I'm concerned, during some part of her sojourn to DC, Debbie is gonna screw up fatally, so she's good as dead as far as I'm concerned. And if you want to see Jack close to death, I'll go in there and I'll go medieval on his ass."

I giggled a little when I heard that. "You're a great friend, Edgar," I said, giving him a hug.

He was stiff at first, but then he loosened up and hugged me back. And we just stayed there for a while before I let go.

"Why don't we go back in there," I asked casually.

"Yeah, sure," Edgar said, nodding like a bobble head before standing up and following me down the steps.

"You guys," I said. "It was a pack of Mentos."

"Thank God," Alan muttered.

"Oh," Tiffani said. "I'm sorry. I mean, like, when you didn't, you know, say anything, I just assumed...well, you know."

Edgar just nodded and sat back down. The game had already winded down after that, and the party was starting to break up. Someone had already puked on the Dunbars' carpet, another couple had sex in the master bedroom, and the neighbors had called the cops, which meant the peak of excitement had been reached. Tiffani, despite being designated driver, had drank anyway, so Alan had drive all of us home. And of course, Kate and Aimee had to pretend to be smashed to get rides home. I got dropped off at my place right before Tiffani.

"Bye, Pauly," Edgar yelled out of the window as they drove. As I watched them drive away, I wondered what I had ever seen in guys like Jack, and why I never dated guys like Edgar.


	10. Chapter 9: David's POV

Ch. 9

The Party

David's POV

"So, like, what did you want to tell me, David," Cindy asked, leaning on the kitchen counter, smiling like the cat that swallowed the canary. If she thinks I'm going to tell her I love her, she's in for a huge disappointment.

"I'm bored, Cindy," I said. "And you annoy me. So I'm done."

"What," she whined softly, sounding like she was about to cry. "Why?"

I shrugged. "Like I said, you annoy me," I answered. I had brought the whole gang with me this time, Marko, Paul, and Dwayne. They had all started snickering.

Cindy burst in hysterical sobs and started desperately trying to grab onto me. "But you love me, David," she shrieked. "Don't let your friends ruin what we have!"

I couldn't help it. She was just so pathetic that I started laughing too. She ran away sobbing. I could barely remember what I saw in her. Maybe it was her looks. In any case, I was done with her. I looked around the party. Many of the girls were annoying like Cindy, as most of them were her little friends. The usual suspects were in attendance: Pauly, Tiffani, and Taylor. Tiffani would be a suitable choice for the group: she was like the others, but not only would she follow orders, she was quiet. She had the same affected speech of the other girls, but at least she spoke much less. I still feel the same way about Pauly, though. She might make a good snack, but she was really just your basic bimbo on the outskirts of the Valley. I watched the desperate junior high girls with too much makeup on desperately throwing themselves at tenth graders, acting more pathetic than Cindy.

And then I saw her. _Star_. She had long, curly brown hair and big brown eyes. I listened to her talk to some other girls for a couple of minutes. There was no bimbo slang whatsoever. Compared to most of the partygoers, she sounded beautiful. I decided to approach her at that moment, tapping her on the shoulder.

"Hi," I said, managing to catch her attention with one syllable.

"Hi," she said sounding surprised. "My name's Star."

"I'm David," I replied.

"And I'm Ann and that's Nancy," one of her friends interrupted. I briefly looked them over. They were college girls, not members of the kiddie pool. Her friend Ann nudged Nancy and they both left.

"So what are you doing at this party," I asked, genuinely curious.

Star rolled her eyes and smiled. "My friends made me come," she said. "Besides, a lot of my friends from high school are here. Why are _you_ here?"

I shrugged. "This _was_ my girlfriend's party," I said, before explaining that I'd just broken things off.

"You just dated Cindy Dunbar," Star asked, surprised.

"Yeah," I said. _Shit_. Why did she have to be friends with Cindy?

"She seemed mature at first," I explained. "But she turned out to be a little too...young."

Star nodded. "Well, I mean she is only fifteen, and you must be..."

"Nineteen," I answered. _Nineteen, one hundred and nineteen, same difference_, I thought.

"Oh, so what year are you," Cindy asked.

"Freshman," I answered.

"Oh, cool, me too," Star answered. "I go to UC Santa Carla. How about you?"

"USC," I answered.

"Wow," she said. "That's quite a commute from Los Angeles to here."

I shrugged, not really having a way to explain it. "My friends and I enjoy long car rides," I answered, thinking that sounded really deep. Something about Star at the time had made me want to impress her. In a way, I guess you could say I'd almost fallen in love at first sight.

She looked at me curiously for a moment. "Who are your friends," she asked.

"Oh," I said. I gestured over to my gang and pointed the rest of them out by name.

"Do they go to USC with you," she asked.

"Yeah," I answered. "All of them."

We stood there awkwardly for a few moments.

"You wanna to go somewhere quiet," Star asked.

I nodded, but before I could follow her, a pudgy hand grabbed me and pulled me into a closet. The thing turned on the light. I looked at it. Despite the appearance of its hand, it was only slightly chubby. It was its ambiguous facial structure, dress and mullet that kept me from identifying its gender. It seemed feminine, but you could never be sure.

"My name's Donna," she said, declaring her gender. "And I'm gonna get some tonight."

I smirked. Lucky for her, I was starving, and the possibility of eating Taylor tonight was ruined. The girl reeked of garlic, which could easily be linked back to one of the boys who worked at the local comic shop.

"Right you are," I replied before sinking my teeth into her neck. I covered her mouth to muffle her screams when she realized this was no ordinary hickey. Her blood tasted like lard, which was disgusting, but I handled it well. Unfortunately, though, by the time I was done, and had left the body in the closet, Star had left. I found the others quickly so we could get rid of Donna's body. There wasn't much tension. Marko gathered up a ton of beer cans, and we threw them into the closet, covering the bite marks with a large bandage.

"That alcohol poisoning is a real killer," I muttered causing my friends to snicker.

We went back to the party like nothing had happened. I felt a tap on my shoulder and we all turned around. It was one of the junior high girls.

"My name's Zanne," the child said. "Do you want to play Seven Minutes in Heaven?"

"Not with you kids," I said snickering.

"How about you," she asked Dwayne.

"Sure," he said. "If there are older players."

"There are, there are," she perked up.

"Okay," he said with a shrug following her to the basement and smirking at the rest of us. I decided to go find Star. I saw her drinking a Diet Coke in the kitchen near the back window and porch. I went over there slowly, and it began to seem like we were the only two people in the room.

"Hey, Star," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Oh, hi, David," she said, seeming surprised to see me. "Where'd you go?"

"Oh, you know, that girl was just drunk or something," I explained nonchalantly.

"Oh."

I thought for a moment, before saying, "Hey, do you wanna get outta here with me and my friends?"

Star smiled. "Sure" was her reply.

I start gathering my friends but we had forgotten where Dwayne had gone. Eventually we had found him in the basement with a group of kids from the high school and the junior high school.

"Come on, Dwayne, let's go," I yelled.

But apparently, Tiffani would have none of that. "What are you, Dwayne, his lapdog," she asked.

Some of the junior high boys started hooting and "oooh"ing like animals.

Luckily, I managed to amuse them just as much by replying, "The pit bull says what?"

"What," she immediately replied before blushing.

"Come on, Dwayne," I said. He got up and followed the rest of us.

As soon as we left, Star asked, "So where are we going?" Everyone looked at me as if they had no functioning brains whatsoever.

"Let's head to the boardwalk," I said. The boardwalk is the only place to do anything anyway. "We can catch a movie."

Seeing a movie wasn't really an original idea, sure. But this was a small town at one thirty in the morning in the wintertime. It wasn't particularly cold, considering it was California, but most of the shops and the amusement park closed after midnight during this season. There wasn't really much else to do, and only the one movie theater and a few fast food restaurants were open, so we ended up going to see some crappy B-movie with Virginia Madsen, Zombie High. That's all the movie theater showed. Horror films, B-movies and repertory classics. It was sort of a Land of Misfit Toys for feature films. I guess that's why Max's rental shop was so popular, for its large variety. Star fit in with the rest of us well. She wasn't too outspoken, but she wasn't idiotic, either. The only trouble was when she asked for my phone number. I just told her the number of the nearest pay phone to the cave, and reminded myself to listen out for the phone. I was glad to find an excuse to get away those high school kids. They have too many issues, and most of the girls are melodramatic twits. But college girls were different. _Star_ was different.


	11. Chapter 10: Alan's POV

**Sorry that this took me so long. Midterms came up. I'll try to pick up the pace as fast as I can with school.**

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Ch. 10

Alan's POV

Either the popular girls have low standards or I'm a lot better looking than I thought. Maybe it's just a bit of both. I got dressed a little better for the party, and almost as soon as Edgar and I got in Tiffani's car, Taylor practically jumped me.

"OHMIGOD, I'm, like, so glad you're here," she squealed. "You, like, need to get a car though, I mean, oh my God, you can't live without one!"

I just nodded. "I'll think about buying one." One of the things I picked up about girls is that, while you don't ever say yes, don't ever say "No" unless they ask "Are you gay?" Unless you are, in which case I guess you never give girls straight answers except for "Yes" to that one.

I guess Taylor's my girlfriend now. She's okay, she just talks too fast sometimes. "So anyway, Alan," she went on. "You're, like, a senior, right? So, you know, senior prom is coming up, so would you, like, take me?" I shrugged. No way in hell would I go to the senior prom, but it was nice of her to dream.

"I don't know," I replied, choosing a response that'd keep her talking long enough so I didn't say much. Sure enough, she ended up going on and on about how she dreamed of being the only sophomore to go to prom since birth or something. She was still talking when we pulled up to Pauly's house. Tiffani started honking the horn, and we saw Pauly run out of the front door and down the hill her house was on top of. She slid into the backseat next to Taylor.

"OHMIGOD," Taylor screeched. "Pauly, what's on your face?" I looked at her. At first, I didn't see what Taylor was talking. Then I saw this zit on her chin. I guess it was huge among these girls, because they were all staring in shock.

"It's a zit," Pauly muttered, stating the obvious. She slumped back into her seat, muttering something about being screwed. I told I didn't even notice it at first, but she just rolled her eyes. As soon as we got to the party, Pauly ran over to Jock Strap. He looked like an asshole, with no shirt on under his jacket. They ran up the steps, so I guess they were going to screw after all.

Edgar rolled his eyes and turned to Tiffani. "You, uh, you want a drink or something," he asked her, looking down at his feet.

"Sure," Tiffani said, smiling slightly. "Get me a Diet Coke."

Edgar nodded, and disappeared into the kitchen. Tiffani turned her head towards me. "God, could he, like, be any more obvious," Tiffani asked.

I shrugged. "Not really."

"It's, like, sort of sweet, though, you know," Tiffani went on. "I mean, I was, like, hoping to meet a college guy, but, I mean, I guess if there's, like, nobody else, I might, you know, hook up with your brother. So are you, like, cool with that?"

I shrugged again. "Sure, I guess," I replied. I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around to see Taylor and two other girls, probably juniors. One was petite and had curly light brown hair, and the other taller girl had wavy red hair.

"I'm Kate," the redhead said. "And that's my friend Aimee. And, like, you know Taylor."

Aimee smiled up at me. "Come hang with us," she squeaked.

"Yeah," Taylor said, looking at me. She gestured to the other two and not-so-subtly rolled her eyes, but they didn't seem to notice or care. We all sat down on the Dunbars' couch.

"Do you, like, want a drink, Alan," Taylor asked. "Because I could, like, totally get you a Bud or a Coke or something."

I smirked a little. "Yeah, sure," I replied. "A Coke'd be real nice. Thanks."

Taylor got up and ran into the kitchen. Kate leaned towards me. "The sophomores seem so young this year," she said.

"Yeah, and desperate," Aimee added in her mouselike voice. "Not that we're prudes or anything, though."

"Yeah," Kate said. "We're really mature and stuff, you know?"

"God, I mean, like, what's taking him so long," Tiffani whined, reminding us of her presence.

"Who," Aimee asked.

"Alan's brother," she replied. "He's supposed to be getting me a Diet Coke, you know?"

"I think there's a line," I said in his defense.

"Yeah, there's, like, definitely a line," Kate threw in, sucking up.

Just in time, Edgar came back with the Diet Coke. Tiffani immediately took it from him and took a big gulp. She swallowed, and said "Ugh, it's warm." And of course, my poor, desperate brother agreed to go get ice and went back into the mayhem in the kitchen.

"Hey, Alan, you know what's going on upstairs, right," Kate said.

"Yeah," I replied. "Pauly told me."

"I can't, like, believe she wouldn't put out for, like, so long, you know," Aimee said. "I mean, like, she and Jack have been together forever, and, besides, Jack's way bitchin' for a sophomore."

"Way," Kate added. "But, I mean, he is a sophomore, so it's not like we're interested. I mean, it's like I said, we're really mature for our age, you know?"

I heard whoops and hollers coming from the bottom of the stairwell. We all looked up and saw Pauly emerging from the upstairs bedroom. She looked down at all of us, and I think she either started laughing or crying. I couldn't tell from where I was sitting. She and Cindy ran past each other on the steps and Pauly left through the back door as Taylor came back with my soda.

"You wouldn't not believe how all the stupid guys are, like, lording over the drinks, you know?"

I shrugged. "It's cool," I said. "What's up with Pauly?"

"Ohmigod, so much drama, you know? Jack probably told her about Debbie..." Taylor continued to go on and on while Kate, Tiffani and Aimee threw in what they knew. _Why would they knew more about someone else's personal life then that person knows,_ I thought. Edgar came running back over with some ice in a Solo cup.

Tiffani rolled her eyes. "It's already flat. I'll just go get another one." And once again, another underclassmen was lost to the mayhem in the kitchen. It seemed like a fight or a make out orgy or some sort of payment dispute, or all three were occurring in there, which didn't really explain the line.

"Sorry," Edgar called after her pathetically. "I'm going to see what's going in the basement or something," he muttered, going downstairs.

"Oh, here she comes now," Kate whispered. We all looked up as Pauly walked back into the living room with a sad smile on her face.

Aimee shouted, "Come hang," at her from across the room. Pauly walked over somberly, with her hand grasping her elbow, looking at her feet. I quickly realized, as no one would let me get a word in, all they wanted to do was keep talking about the prom. Then they all starting cooing over me and begging me to take them to the prom, while Pauly stood there awkwardly. She just left after that and went into the basement.

Aimee rolled her eyes and stage-whispered to Kate, "Well, she wasn't very helpful."

"She's just jealous," Kate hissed back. Then they both smiled at me like I was deaf or something.

"Anyway, Alan," Taylor said. "What kind of car do you think you want to get?" I decided to humor her.

"A Trans Am, maybe?"

"Or maybe a BMW," Kate put in.

"A Mercedes would be so cool," Aimee added. They started throwing out car brands at rapid speed, followed by colors. Eventually, when they were running out of things to say, some really young-looking girl ran over towards us. She could have only been in eighth or ninth grade.

"You're, like, Edgar Frog's brother, right," she said giggling. I nodded, still surprised that they actually invited kids from the junior high school to these parties.

"My name's Zanne. I was wondering if you guys would want to go downstairs for Seven Minutes in Heaven? Edgar's going to do it, you know."

The girls started nudging me, like I was their father and they were begging for candy, or more likely, lip gloss.

"I guess that's cool," I replied. We headed downstairs, where Edgar, Tiffani, one of the bloodsuckers, and even Pauly had gathered into a circle around a bottle. We all squeezed our ways in. The game was dull. I went in the closet once with all three girls. I got to second base all three times, but it wasn't as exciting as I thought it would be. Also, as shallow as it sounds, it was sort of gross how chapped Aimee's lips were. Edgar's turn eventually came up. Of course he picked Tiffani, even though all she been to him all night is a bitch. I really don't get what he sees in her. I mean, he'd be better off crushing on Cindy, for God's sake. It took him about two minutes to start kissing her. I could hear Tiffani whisper something inaudible. Edgar didn't respond and about ten seconds later Tiffani screeched and ran out of the closet, while Edgar ran up the basement steps like the room was on fire.

"What happened," Pauly asked.

"He like totally made a tent in his pants," Tiffani squealed. I thought I might puke. Just because we took baths together up until we were four and six didn't mean I exactly wanted to picture him, well, risen. Pauly got up and ran after him. A little after that, David came downstairs and Dwayne the bloodsucker left. Tiffani had been flirting with him after Edgar left and acted all sad to see him go. Finally, as things were winding down, Edgar and Pauly came downstairs.

"It was a pack of Mentos," she announced.

"Thank God," I muttered. After that, the party was pretty much over. Once again, I got stuck driving the drunks and Pauly home. They weren't as restless as Jock Strap, considering it was just the girls: Tiffani, Taylor, Kate, and Aimee. Tiffani and Taylor had fallen asleep, Kate and Aimee were whispering to each other, and Pauly just stared out of the window blankly out of the window. Edgar just seemed thrilled that Tiffani had rested her head in his lap. He actually kissed her cheek to wake her up as she stumbled out of her own car and into her house. We parked the Porsche and walked. As I thought about the party, this one hip-hop song I heard once came to mind: "Girls Ain't Nothing But Trouble."


	12. Chapter 11: David's POV

**A/N- Sorry I've been so busy lately. I wrote up another David chapter, because you guys definitely earned it.**

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Ch. 11

David's POV

We had unfinished business from Cindy's little party, specifically, Taylor McNamara. No one would really notice if she was gone. I remember Cindy telling me she only lived her "like, totally deranged great-aunt and uncle," who were apparently completely senile millionaires. I'd already devised a plan to trap the girl, and we set out to get her after dropping Star off at her dorm.

"Paul, I hate to tell you this, but you're going to have to seduce her, " I informed him as we rode our bikes up the hill where the McNamara house, ahem, estate stood. We gathered by where we had located Taylor's window, which was inexplicably decorated with pictures of that little twat from Family Ties. I can accept the bedroom walls, but seriously? The windows?

"Fine," he sighed, looking disgusted. He floated up to her bedroom window and rapped on the pane. The rest of us had perched in a tree nearby.

I watched as Taylor opened the window, looking bleary-eyed in her pajamas. "Who are you," she asked. "What's going on?"

"You're dreaming," Paul answered.

"I'm dreaming," she repeated, sounding hypnotized. "I know you. From the party."

"Yes," Paul said seriously. "From the party." I couldn't see his face, but I could tell he was trying not to laugh.

"How are you floating," Taylor asked groggily.

"Everyone can float in this dream," he told her. "So can you."

"I can float," Taylor agreed. Paul moved backwards a little.

"Come on," he said. "Walk out of your window. If you slip, I'll catch you."

"Like, I don't know," Taylor said, as if the spell were broken. "I have a boyfriend. His name's Alan."

Paul waved her off. "Oh, how old is he? Eighteen. I'm in college, Taylor. I'm twenty-one, actually. I can get beer."

"But I thought you were, like, a freshman," she went on. "Your friends are."

"Pledges," Paul said, waving her off again.

"Oh, well, like, okay, then. Here I go," Taylor replied, climbing out of the window. She slipped before we figured she would, falling down. She let out a loud scream, so loud it caused Marko to cover his ears. She landed chest-first into one of the sharp points of the gate around the house. It went right through her skin. Her blood was dripping onto the paint. We jumped down from the tree and raced over to the body.

"Come on, guys," I yelled. "Get her while the blood's still flowing." Her white lace nightgown was soaked in blood; it covered the whole front half. She died with her eyes wide open, which was kind of distracting when I was feeding on her neck. I used my fingertips to close them shut. Things were going well, until I heard a loud screech. I looked up, and standing on the other side of the gates was Pauly. _Shit. _I rushed towards her.

"What did you do to her," Pauly rasped as I stood by her side.

"Can't tell you that," I told her. "Just forget it ever happened."

"Forget it ever happened," she screeched. "You just killed one of my best friends! And why were you guys all over her? Are you necrophiliacs or some fucked up shit?"

I swallowed, realizing what I would have to do. "Chill out," I told her. "Don't worry about Taylor right now. Because the only thing I'm worried about is how your hair shines in the moonlight."

"That is the lamest excuse I've ever heard," Pauly snapped. "I'm not really in the mood and..." She noticed the blood around my mouth. "Oh my...oh my God," she said.

She looked back at my friends, who all looked nervous. She promptly dropped to her knees and vomited. I wrinkled my nose. She stood up weakly after a few minutes and tried to run away. I grabbed her wrist.

"I-I'm getting the police right now," she stuttered. "And if you know what's good for you, you'll let go of my arm right. Fucking. Now."

I wasn't afraid. In fact, I twisted Pauly's arm the more she struggled. She managed to twist her way out of my grip, before promptly slugging me in the chest. It didn't hurt much, but it knocked me off my balance. Before I could regain equilibrium, she delivered a kick to my stomach, which was surprisingly painful. I didn't even think I could feel pain anymore.

She grabbed my own wrist and started trying to drag me somewhere. "If you make one goddamn move, I swear to God, things are going to get a lot worse than that. I'm going to the pay phone on the end of the block and I'm calling the police, and no way in hell am I letting you get away."

"You know," I replied, looking for a last-ditch attempt to sweet talk her into submission, "I find you very attractive like this. You know, trying to act like a badass when you're just so waif-like and tiny."

Her eyes narrowed as she slugged me in the ribcage, causing me to let out a low groan. "Asshole," she shouted.

I straightened back up and delivered a swift punch to her head. She fell down immediately. I kept kicking her in the head until she finally passed out. Before she did, she moaned, "I just wanted to take a fucking walk." I hoped like hell she would forget whenever she woke up. I had wanted to feed on her, but two in one night would be too suspicious. I heard a leaf crunch, and a gasp. And when I spun around, there stood Star. _Double shit._ She pushed past me and knelt over Pauly's body. I didn't really mess her up too much. Her forehead and wrist were slightly bruised, and her elbows were a little scraped, but I didn't do as much damage as I could have.

"Why did you do this," Star asked. "She's just a kid; what'd she ever do to you?" She looked like she was going to cry. I looked down at my feet. I couldn't look her in the face. I knew I had to explain, but I couldn't think of how to.

"Don't you have anything you want to say," Star snapped, trying to sound angry. I could tell by the way she was looking at me that she wanted there to be an explanation.

I swallowed and gestured for her to follow me back the hill. "Come on," I told. "There's something I have to show you."

She followed me, not saying a thing. She looked terrified but trusting. My friends tittered as I brought Star towards Taylor's body, and I glared at them.

"Pauly saw something she shouldn't have seen," I explained.

Star turned pale. "You had to beat her up to cover up a murder. Well now, I really understand where you're coming from."

I shook my head. "You don't understand, though," I told her. "We sucked her blood."

"Nice going there, buddy," Paul muttered.

"What," Star asked.

"I'm not really in college, Star," I said, resigned. "I'm not human."

She blinked a few times. "What...what do you mean?"

I sighed. "I'm a vampire. You probably never thought that was a real thing, but it is. I would know. Because like I said, I'm one of them."

She looked blank-faced, like she understood but didn't want to believe it. "Do you want to kill me," she asked, laughing coldly.

I shook my head. "W-would you want to be one of us," I asked her nervously.

"You're not serious, are you? I mean, about being a vampire? You're in some weird cult or something, right? Right?" Star's eyes begged me to say that I was just joking, that this was just some elaborate prank.

I sadly shook my head. The strange thing was that I almost wished I could tell her otherwise.

"So this is real," she said, more to herself than anybody else.

"Yeah," I told her. "This isn't kid stuff."

"And you want me to join you," she asked. I nodded. She looked up at the sky, biting her lip.

"Why were you out here anyway," I asked.

She looked at me. "I just wanted to take a walk," she said. "I didn't expect to walk onto a crime scene." She laughed again, but this time, her laugh was less cold and more nervous. We were both quiet for a moment as I wondered why girls chose the most inconvenient times to take a walk.

"You know," Star said. "I would still like to see you, if that's okay."

"I'd like that," I told her.

"And as for, well, joining you guys," she went on. "I'll think about it."

I nodded again. "I should go," I told, looking back at my friends. They all looked bored.

She smiled weakly. "When can I see you again," she asked.

"Soon," I told her, kissing her goodbye. "Just be at the boardwalk tomorrow."

She smiled. "Bye," she whispered. "Bye," I echoed back, as I left with the guys.

The strangest thing about tonight was that I meant everything I said to Star.

The next morning, Taylor's parents had found her body. The Santa Carla Police Department had just seen it as another corpse, another file. I don't know where she went or when she woke up, but I'd seen Pauly later, so I knew she had lived. I wondered if she still remembered what had happened, but I heard her talking to the two comic shop boys about it, and she didn't seem to. I was in the clear once again. But the one thing from that night that was still on my mind was Star. I couldn't stop thinking about her, no matter how much I wanted to.


	13. Chapter 12: Pauly's POV

**A/N- Thanks for sticking with me here! With school, I can't write and post as quickly as I'd like. I thought you'd all be wondering about Star's reaction to David, and that will be explained eventually. Just keep hanging in there.**

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Ch. 12

Pauly's POV

I woke up around ten in the morning wearing the same lavender dress in my little brother's bed. He had his arms wrapped around the way Dad used to when I crawled into my parent's bed after I had a nightmare.

"Jeremy," I whispered. "Are you awake?"

He opened his eyes and stared back at me. "Well now I am," he answered, not angrily. "Are you okay?"

I nodded. "What happened last night," I asked.

"You stumbled in here around two thirty in the morning. You weren't drunk, but you hit your head sometime last night, because you had this huge bruise, but I put an ice pack on it, and it went down. Do you remember what happened?"

I shook my head. All I remembered was that after the Frogs dropped me off, I decided to take a walk. And I remembered part of the walk, until I went into Taylor's neighborhood. And that was it.

"Can you guess what hit me, Jeremy," I asked. He shrugged. "Maybe somebody was throwing rocks at somebody else's house and you got hit."

"Do Mother and Daddy know," I asked.

"I think all they know is that you came in late," Jeremy told me. "Your knees and wrist looked real roughed up too. Maybe if you fell down, you fell on them wrong."

I nodded. I knew he was wrong, though. Somebody did this to me; I just didn't know who.

"Jeremy! Paula! Breakfast," Mother shouted.

"You ought to put some makeup on that bruise," Jeremy advised. "Especially if you don't want Mom and Dad asking too many questions."

"Yeah, that's a good idea," I murmured, going into my bathroom. In about fifteen minutes, I was ready for breakfast. The ice pack may have helped, but my forehead looked a lot worse than Jeremy told me.

"Finally," Mother muttered when I came downstairs. "I see you have decided to grace us with your presence."

Daddy cringed as he kept eating silently. I gathered up some eggs and toast on my plate and sat down. The best way to handle my mother was to not respond to most things she says.

"You were drunk last night," she assumed out loud.

"Sorry for coming in so late," I apologized. "I wasn't drunk though."

She nodded. "Then why are you still wearing last night's clothes?"

"I was tired," I snapped. That was my first mistake; snapping at her.

"Well, excuse me," she muttered. "How dare I question the great and powerful Pauly."

I snorted angrily. "Mrs. Pratt called," Mother said. "I know you made another mistake with Jack."

I glared up at her, and starting shoveling food in my face so I wouldn't have to speak.

"You probably felt obliged, considering he's the varsity quarterback and you're just a silly little girl, but you lost his respect even more, if that's possible, by coming on to him. That's probably why he dumped you."

I steamed up, unable to take it anymore. "I dumped him, for your information," I huffed.

"Why would you do that," Mother asked.

"He cheated on me with Debbie," I told her.

"Well, I'm sure he realizes it was just a mistake," she said. "And you should apologize to him."

"Why," I asked. "Why would I apologize? He cheated on me."

"Is it really that big of a deal, Paula," she asked.

"It is to me," I yelled. "But we all know how unimportant it is to you!"

I ran up to the stairs to my room and slammed the door. I heard Daddy first. "Why do you have to talk to her like that?"

"I just don't see why she's still upset about it. It happened years ago."

"Maybe she's upset because it directly effects her. Have you ever even thought about that," Daddy snapped.

I could almost see rolling her eyes. "I've told her plenty of times that it was a mistake."

I knew where this was going and I couldn't listen anymore. I turned my best mix tape: "Sadness." I always managed to cheer up when I turned it on. It opened with 'Til Tuesday's "Voices Carry", followed by Janis Ian's "At Seventeen". A few songs later, things perked up with artists like Suzanne Vega, The Cure and Joan Jett, and then things really got happy with Erasure, the Bangles and the B-52s. It was one of the best ways to wallow and to feel better, and by the time Suzanne Vega's "Luka" came on, I was already feeling relaxed, if not happy. I heard a knock on the door.

"Who is it," I asked.

"Jack," he said. "Cindy and Tiffani came with me."

I sighed and opened the door. "What do you want," I sneered.

"An apology," Jack said calmly.

"Excuse me?"

Cindy rolled her eyes. "You completely, like, ditched Jack over something totally stupid," she said. "And you'll be glad to know he's, like, def willing to take you back. I mean, if David was willing to take me back, I would definitely let him."

"No," was all I could say. I guess strange minds think alike. I just never thought my friends could be as horrible as my mother.

"But he's Jack Pratt," Tiffani said, surprised.

"And I'm Pauly Holland," I replied. "And I'm saying no."

I glared at all three of them. "I thought you guys understood."

"Look, what your mom did was bad, but I mean, they were married," Jack said. "So it wasn't a big deal. It was one mistake."

"One mistake that made me an outcast in my own home," I corrected. "Mother made one mistake and it didn't really affect her after I was born. I'll be an illegitimate child forever. And in my mother's eyes, I'll always be a mistake."

Jack cleared his throat. "Well, I mean, technically, your mother's right. Because you weren't planned, and I mean, your father was a mail man. So, you know, you were sort of, well, a mistake."

I swallowed my tears, stared Jack in the eyes, and said, "Get out."

"Excuse me?"

"Get the fuck out of my house, Jack," I hissed.

"Fine," he snapped. "Be immature about this if you want." He stormed out of the house in a huff.

"We'll talk to her, Jack," Tiffani called after him.

"I cannot believe you," Cindy snapped.

"Yeah, I mean, he's like, Jack Pratt, you know," Tiffani added. "He's the biggest hunk in the sophomore class."

"Yeah, I mean, if I didn't only date college guys, he would have been my boyfriend," Cindy said. "I mean, I'm the prettiest one in the group."

I rolled my eyes.

Cindy sighed deeply. "Fine, be difficult then," Tiffani said. "We can all talk at school tomorrow."

They both walked away from me the way we walked away from most of the unpopular girls: by strutting slowly away, not turning back, high heels clacking down the hallway. I slammed my bedroom door. Some friends they were; they only put me back into a shit mood.

A few minutes later, I heard another knock on the door. "It's me, Jeremy."

"Come in."

He sat on the white cotton rug by my bed. I laid back on my bed and looked at him. "I always hated them, you know," he said. "Especially Jack, but I've never liked any of your girlfriends either."

I didn't say anything back. I couldn't. I'd never thought my friends were good people, but they were my parents' friends' kids, and that had to be enough at first. I was sort of just a tagalong at first, since I was shy and liked to read, as opposed to everybody else, who liked going to the mall and to birthday parties. I got to go places with them because their parents told them to invite me. And then the summer before junior high happened. A lot of stuff happened that summer. I went to summer camp for the first time, Camp White Pines. Everyone else had gone to Camp Chestnut, and I was on my own. I had to make friends on my own. I thought it was scary at first, but then I saw a familiar face: Edgar Frog. He had been in my class in third, fourth and sixth grade. Edgar was the first person who was really my friend, I guess. No one told him to be nice to me, or talk to me. I remember about my triumph, that I, not my parents, had gotten someone to be my friend. We did just about everything together. I was one of the only girls who wasn't interested in any of the boys at camp, and Edgar was the only boy who wasn't interested in setting things on fire, at least not for extended periods of time. We used to go out into the woods with a few other kids and play _Friday the 13th_. Another great thing happened, too. That was the summer I "became a knockout," as Cindy put it. My hair color got paler, my skin got tanner, and instead of having a flat chest and knobby knees, I had B cups and shapely legs. I was nervous at first. I had read Judy Blume books about girls who had developed early, and how they were called sluts, so I assumed all my friends at home would hate me. Instead, I was finally one of the gang when I came back from camp. Cindy Dunbar was acting like we had always the best of friends, and Jack Pratt, the Pee Wee football MVP, noticed me. It was obvious that the popular girls only wanted to keep their friends close and the pretty girls closer, but I didn't care. And then the third and most important event of the summer happened. The day before the first day of junior high, my mother told me she wanted to have a serious conversation with me. I never could have guessed what she would say that night.

"Now, Paula," she said. "You've probably noticed you don't look like everyone else in the family." She was right. Mother has curly red hair and brown eyes, and Dad and Jeremy both have straight brown hair and brown eyes. My bright blonde hair and blue eyes were sort of a contrast from the rest of the family, although I did have Mother's old nose, her height, and the same birthmark behind my ear.

"Well, now that you're in junior high, I thought you should know the truth. Paula, you're my daughter, but you're not your father's." I blinked a couple of times. I had no idea of what she was talking about.

"Huh?"

Mother sighed and said, "Do I really have to spell it out for you?"

I nodded. She sighed again. "You realize that I was quite young when I married your father. Why, I was only nineteen years old. I thought he was very dull at the time. And there was this boy about my age. His name was Eric and he was our mail man. We flirted a bit at first, but then things got more complicated. You see, when your father went on an extended business trip to Japan, I began, well, seeing him. And when your father came home, I had already been pregnant with you for a month, and Eric had left town. So what I'm saying here, Paula, is you were a mistake, so that if I ever act like I hate you, it's not hatred. It's regret."

I was in shock at first. I wouldn't speak or eat that night, and I didn't want to go to school the next day. That was the first time I heard my parents fight. Dad thought she should have waited until I was older, and I agreed. Mother made me go, though and told Dad to "stay out of the issue."

Sometimes, when I look at Mother, it still stings as much as it did when she told me. I've used my schoolwork and my friends to avoid the feeling. All through junior high and most of sophomore year, I clung to my friends, for they were familiar. It turned out they heard their parents gossiping about at one of my birthday parties, so they knew even before I did. I wasn't upset by that fact, though, because I convinced myself they didn't tell me to protect me. I convinced myself that they were good friends. They told me that they'd decided Edgar was weird that summer, and that I was the only good kid who went to Camp White Pines, since I lived in a house and not a trailer. I was glad that I made the good list, and I easily dropped him. His name sounded almost like Eric, and he lived in a trailer, like Eric had. I loathed him. At that time, I hated everyone but my so-called friends. The day seventh grade started, he sat right next to me in homeroom.

"Hey, Pauly," he said. "You wanna hang after school? I could finally show you my whole comic book collection." I was ready to tear him a new one, until I looked up. He had this hopelessly excited look on his face. He was _grinning_. I had seen him smile at camp, but it still took some getting used to.

Before I could answer, Cindy, who was sitting in front of me, turned around. "She's coming to my house after school," she said in a haughty voice.

I just nodded and shrugged at Edgar. I guess I decided wait until fourth period to screw him over. It was in biology where I pulled out the whole "gag me with a spoon" line. I was in after that and Janet Anderson was out. You see, she used to hang out with us. She never liked me. She saw me for what I was in third grade: a timid, nervous hanger-on who feared being ditched at any minute and she took advantage of it. She used to called me "Ghost Girl", because I was so pale skinned and light eyed and skinny, and soon everyone in the group called me that, and I had to laugh it off, because it was that or sit by myself in the cafeteria. But Janet never hated me until I took her place and everyone started calling and inviting me to things instead of her. There was never enough room at the new smaller cafeteria tables of junior high school, in the corner booth at our favorite diner, Cosmic Casey's, or in the carpool. Eventually, she got the idea, and she blamed me completely. I had nothing to do with it, but my silence did. I had it coming. I didn't even care. And by the second semester of seventh grade, Janet had shaved her head and started glaring at us from across the cafeteria. She still had a grudge too, but I could see why. We gave as much, if not more, back to her. But, as I was slowly realizing, it was all a waste. I had wasted most of my life trying to win over, and then trying to upkeep a relationship with a bunch of self-centered brats. I had become a self-centered brat, albeit with a Freudian excuse, which didn't make me much better. In fact, it probably made me a worse person. I looked over to see if Jeremy was still there. He had found a comic book under my bed to read. He looked up when he felt me staring at him. I had been so uncaring towards him. I guess it upset me that he belonged to our family and I didn't. But he hated Mom and Dad fighting as much as I did, and I'd never tried comforting him.

"I'm sorry, Jeremy," I said, my voice cracking. He didn't ask why. He just sat next to me on my bed and hugged me.

"You're my sister," Jeremy whispered. "No matter what Mom says."

I didn't worry about school the next day. I didn't worry about Daddy. I was just glad that whatever hurt me last night didn't hurt Jeremy. I was going to try to look out for him more. He was out late for a ten-year-old, and Santa Carla could be dangerous. I had memory loss, for God's sake. Something or someone attacked me last night, I know it. And I had make sure Jeremy didn't get attacked. I had this quick reaction to things and I was pretty strong for a girl due to cheerleading, exercise and soccer. Jeremy wasn't quick or tough though. I had to make sure nothing went after him, because he could be hurt much worse. No one in God's name was I letting that happen. I pulled him closer. I had intense feelings towards him, more intense than anything I had ever felt for Jack. I loved Jeremy. He was one of the only people I really cared about. And I wasn't going to let anyone or anything hurt him.


	14. Chapter 13: Star's POV

Ch. 13

Star's POV

There was something strange about the effect David had on me. When he was right there, in front of me, he was just so easy to forgive for being a killer. But when I was away from him, it was like a fog cleared from my head, and I could think straight. I had just seen the guy killed one girl and beat another, and I wanted to see him again? What was wrong with me? But then I actually did plan to see him again. It was like something was pulling me towards the boardwalk on Monday. I knew that he always hung out around there, and that I should have stayed away. But I really wanted to see him again, if only to understand what he was doing to me. I mean, he was a vampire. Maybe he had powers that could force me to want to be around him. I got dressed in a white sundress and a baggy brown cardigan and started heading out when my roommate Ann stopped me.

"Where are you going," she asked. "I'll come with you. I don't have anything to do tonight."

She couldn't see David. Either she wouldn't understand or she would fall in love with him too. It seemed like lots of girls just fall all over him. And if Ann realized he was a vampire, she would tell everyone, since she's such a gossip. I couldn't take her with me.

"I-I'm just going to the drugstore," I told her. "And then grocery shopping."

She looked bored. "Oh, that's nice," she said. "I'll go see what Nancy's doing."

I sighed in relief. Crisis averted. I looked at myself in the mirror, and a terrified girl who looked closer to Pauly's age than mine stared back. I chastised myself. If I was really so afraid of David and his friends, why did I want to see him so badly? I mean, sure, I guess all girls go through a bad boy phase, but I never thought I would go through a demonic murderous creature phase. I mean, how did I even know Pauly had lived? What if he distracted me so I wouldn't realize he beat her to death? I couldn't even remember the other girl's name at the time, but I'll remember her corpse forever. This morning, I read a newspaper article about her. Her name's Taylor McNamara. I mean, I guess it was Taylor McNamara. The police thought she was attacked by animals, and in a way, I guess she was. Her cheerleading photo was in the paper. She was a pretty girl, with dark brown hair and dark brown eyes, and a bright smile. She looked nothing like her corpse, which had ragged hair and nails, dead eyes, and was covered in blood. In all fairness, she lived fast and died young, but she didn't leave a good looking corpse. Her friends seemed attention starved on the local news. Cindy Dunbar was wearing some stylish black dress, even though the funeral hadn't been arranged for at least another week, appeared to have had her hair and makeup professionally done, and gave interviews with all the local channels where she dropped her Valley accent, and it seemed like she had her responses memorized. In contrast, her other friend Tiffani Bartolini was pulling out all the stops, sobbing and shouting like she thought she could win an Emmy for her performance. They both seemed insincere. I sighed. It wasn't like Taylor's friends cared as much as I did. It was just upsetting. I had decided. I wasn't going to the boardwalk. I turned on the TV. The story on Taylor was still on Channel 5. It was on almost all of the network stations. I flipped to the cable stations, and tuned into HBO. They were playing _Once Bitten_, which was a funny movie, but the last thing I wanted to think about was vampires. I flipped to MTV, where some rock group had a vampire-themed video, which caused me to give up and turn the TV off. Obviously, this was a sign that I couldn't just avoid the problem. I laid back on my bed, staring up at the ceiling. I was confused, angry, melancholy, and bored at the same time, if that was possible. I needed to stare at something mindless, and let my brain melt. I looked over at the VHS collection in our room, and popped in _Revenge of the Nerds_. Unfortunately, I had seen this stupid movie so many time with Ann and Nancy, our third roommate, who was obsessed with it, that I couldn't focus on it. My mind kept wandering back to whatever I was trying not to think about. David, Taylor's corpse, Pauly's bruises, whatever. I was giving myself a headache trying not to think. I gave up and decided to go to the boardwalk. Maybe if I could confront David, and yell at him a little, I'd have closure. I walked down to the boardwalk, and, I'll admit, I was actively searching David out. I saw Taylor's old friends walking around near me, and I felt sick to my stomach. I shook my head and walked away from the amusement park, where they were hanging out. I finally saw Paul by one of the stores nearby, and I knew David couldn't be too far off. He was holding a little boy's hand. I tapped Paul on the shoulder and he looked towards me. "Oh, hi," he said, casually. He nodded down to the boy.

"This is Laddie." Laddie stared up at me, looking nervous. I knelt down so the boy could look down on me.

"Hi," I said quietly. "I'm Star." I really hoped Laddie was one of them, and that they weren't planning on killing a little boy. It was bad enough that they had killed fifteen-year-old girls, but this kid barely looked eight. He smiled down at me, but he didn't say anything. If he was a vampire, it seemed like he was trained. I stood back up.

"Paul, do you know where David is," I asked. "I need to talk to him."

He gestured towards the end of the boardwalk, where David, Dwayne, and Marko were gathered around their motorcycles. I started walking over when I heard someone call my name.

"Star, wait up," a girl yelled. I turned and saw it was Pauly. Her hair was limp, she looked washed-out, and her eyes were fearful. I stopped, but she still grasped my shoulder, as if she were afraid I could float away.

"There's something weird about David," she said nervously. "I don't know what is but I just think he's dangerous. Something about him scares me. I know you're friends with him, and all, but just think about what I said." Her eyes pleaded with me not to go over there.

"I just need to see him one more time," I assured her. I looked so intently at her that I saw where she had used makeup to cover her bruises. She didn't remember where they came from, so only _instinct_ could have told her not to trust David.

"Just-just be safe with him, okay," Pauly said. "Promise?"

I nodded. It was hard to accept that Pauly didn't know the half of it, that she didn't know why she should be afraid of David. I looked back over to where he stood. David stared back at me. He didn't smile or invite me over. He just _leered_. It was creeping me out a little, so I chickened out.

"You know," I told Paul. "I just remembered I have to be... somewhere."

_Yeah_, I thought. _Anywhere but here_. I actually did go to the grocery store, so Ann wouldn't figure out that I had lied. Then, I went back to the dorm, and turned on the news. I was going to have to face facts: last night's date was a murderer. This time, the news crew had stopped by Pauly's house, about two hours ago, considering the sun was on full blast at the time. Pauly came out confused.

"Did you know Taylor McNamara," Sherry Daily, the field reporter for the news asked.

"Yeah," Pauly said slowly. "We were friends."

Sherry looked at her expectantly, trying to get more of a reaction. When she didn't, she moved on to the next question.

"Where were you when Taylor was killed?"

"Don't you need me to sign a release for this," Pauly asked, avoiding the question.

"We'll get to that later," Sherry insisted. "So, again, where were you when Taylor McNamara was murdered? The police have decided it was at the hands of a human. Do you have any ideas of a suspect?"

They were interrupted by a woman who I suppose was Pauly's mother. "What's going on here," she asked.

"We're trying to interview your daughter," Sherry said. "About Taylor McNamara's murder." Mrs. Holland smiled and smoothed her red hair.

"Well, Paula knows tons of things about Taylor, I'm sure. They were the best of friends. Paula, don't you want to answer her question?"

Pauly frowned. "I don't know who killed Taylor," she finally responded.

"Where were you," Sherry persisted. "You didn't answer that part of the question."

"I was taking a walk," Pauly said. "And then I went home."

"People saw you near Taylor's home when she was murdered," Sherry said.

Mrs. Holland glared. "Well, that's certainly an interesting development," she said aloud. "Are you trying to say people think my daughter killed Taylor?"

"There is a lot of suspicion surrounding your daughter," Sherry said. "Other interviews have led us to this point."

Pauly looked pale at this point. "Well," Mrs. Holland snapped. "Tell them you didn't murder Taylor."

Pauly swallowed before running back into her home with her hand over her mouth. Mrs. Holland smiled for the cameras one more time, before closing the door. Sherry went on about Santa Carla's reputation as the "Murder Capital of the World" and how the killer may have finally be traced for "at least one life taken." I couldn't believe it. David was going to thrust his crime upon an innocent teenage girl. Someone who didn't deserve to be treated the way Sherry Daily treated her: like an already convicted criminal, guilty before proven innocent. It made me sick. I turned off the TV again, and decided to try to go to sleep. It was easy, considering it was only eight thirty, and so many thoughts were running through my brain. I was out like a light as soon as I hit the pillow. I didn't even dream. I just fell into the thick, enveloping darkness of sleep.


	15. Chapter 14: Pauly's POV

Ch. 14  
Pauly's POV

Everything sucks now. I wish I could go back to the summer before seventh grade, and never grow up. I woke up at four in the morning on Monday and I couldn't go back to sleep, even though I was tired. I felt so wrecked by the time my alarm went off at seven, I was practically a zombie. I didn't bother doing anything except for putting makeup on the bruise, slapping on some deodorant, brushing my hair, and heading for my closet. I threw on a brown vest, a tie-dyed midriff-baring tank top, a pair of generic blue jeans, and sneakers. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Once piece of jewelry couldn't hurt, if only to distract people from how beat I looked. I grabbed a multicolored beaded necklace off of my dresser and slid it on. I walked downstairs, grabbed a piece of toast, ruffled Jeremy's hair, kissed Daddy on the cheek, and walked out the door. No one's car was waiting for me, and I still couldn't drive mine. I was going to have to walk to school. Alone. For the first time ever. I made it two blocks before I realized I was crying. I had never felt so alone. Everyone hated me. I wiped my eyes and marched on. Santa Carla High is only five blocks from my home, but I felt like I'd walked five miles. It's sad to think that I thought this was the worst of it. As soon as I walked to my locker, I saw it. In red, dripping spray paint, written across my locker was the word **murderer**. I was confused, to say the least. I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around to see Cindy glaring at me.

"Kerry Walsh's father had his telescope out last night," she said. The Walsh family live in the house across the street from the McNamaras. Mr. Walsh was known to use his telescope for peeping on Taylor more than stargazing.

"He saw you. It was, like, on the news last night, if you didn't watch."

"Yeah," I said. "I took a walk in Taylor's neighborhood yesterday morning."

"Yeah, a walk of death," Cindy hissed as a crowd began to gather.

"Just admit it," Kerry spat. "You killed Taylor. You killed the teen dream. And now you have to deal with it."

I shook my head. "I blacked out that night," I admitted at the worst possible time.

"You blacked out the memory of murdering Taylor," Cindy went on. "But you did it. Everyone knows you did, you know?"

Jack stepped out from the crowd. "Just turn yourself in, man," he said. "You can, like, get help that way."

My lip quavered. "I didn't do it," I said quietly. I know I didn't do it. Someone else did. The person who beat me. If only I knew who it was.

"Whatever," Cindy said dismissively. "Let's, like, leave her to the voices in her head for now, okay," she told the crowd. They all tittered nervously. She leaned into my ear and whispered, "But if you don't 'fess up by the end of the day, Kerry is gonna make sure her dad goes to the police."

For the first time, I saw the halls clear out before the bell rang. I leaned back against the wall near the row of lockers, since the paint on my locker was still fresh.

"I believe you," I heard Edgar say. I whipped around and saw him standing there.

"Why," I asked. I mean, he had no reason to believe me. I admitted that I had blacked out. That sounds pretty suspicious.

"I don't know," he muttered. "I just don't think you would murder someone. And I think I know what did it."

"Vampires," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. He nodded.

"Whatever attacked me wasn't human," I said, putting the pieces together.

"Wait a minute," Edgar said, sounding more upset. "It attacked you?"

I nodded. "I think that's why I blacked out," I went on.

"It didn't bite you, right," he asked. I shook my head.

"It just did this," I said, wiping off a bit of makeup as an explanation. He brushed some hair off my forehead so he could get a better look, and then ran his thumb across the bruise. I winced a little.

"That still hurts," he asked. I nodded, feeling my face get hot. Someone cleared his throat. We both looked over to see Alan. He raised an eyebrow at us.

"There was a bruise," Edgar blurted out immediately. Alan just shrugged. Things still sucked after that. The teachers stared at me funny in all of my classes. And then in art, Mr. Webber wouldn't even give me a pair of scissors. In math, Ms. DeMilo wouldn't let me go to the pencil sharpener. By the time lunch rolled around, I was definitely fed up. So I snapped when the cafeteria monitor wouldn't let me have a _plastic_ knife and fork. On _spaghetti da_y.

"I didn't kill anybody," I screamed.

"I'm not blaming you for anything," the lady said. "I just think that in your current mental state, you shouldn't have access to anything that can be potentially used as a weapon."

"I'm in a perfectly rational state of mind! There is absolutely no proof that I did ANYTHING! Now why the hell can't you give me some plastic?"

"Language, language, language," the lady said, clicking her tongue obnoxiously.

I hurled my lunch tray across the room in frustration, shouting, "I'm done!" Cindy and Tiffani screamed like banshees. I left the cafeteria, snatched my Rollerblades out of my locker, and zoomed out of school. I bladed all around town, thinking to myself about how stupid what I just did was, and then justifying it to myself like a nut. I went home after about a half hour, grabbed the first bathing suit I saw, my surfboard and then I headed for the beach. The waves were almost perfect today. I liked surfing because while you're pounding waves, all you're focused on is being in harmony with the water, and then catching the next wave. It's like all your problems just melt away with ease. I felt free for the first time in a while. It was a good day. The sun was shining, and it was actually seventy degrees out in January, which even for California is ridiculous. I felt sweet relief about two hours later as I decided to catch one more wave before going home. As soon as I was done, I jogged down the beach towards the boardwalk, before a little brunet boy in dire need of a haircut and a bath caught my eye. He looked so sad and lonely that I ran over him.

"Hi," I said. "What's your name?"

"Laddie," he whispered.

"My name's Pauly. Why aren't you in school," I asked.

He looked up at me, and asked calmly, "Why aren't you?"

I smiled at him. "I ran away," I told him.

"I ran away too," he replied, brightening up.

"Why'd you run away," I asked. He shrugged. "I didn't feel like being there. Why did you?"

I shrugged. "Same reason." We were both quiet for a while. I knew I should head home, or back to school, since there was about an hour left, and I could make it in time for eighth period.

"Aren't your parents going to worry," I asked.

"I don't see my parents anymore," Laddie said sadly.

"Laddie!" We both looked up and saw a boy about my age run over. "Didn't I tell you not to talk to strangers," he growled.

Laddie nodded. "But she was nice," he argued.

I wanted to ask what Laddie meant by what he said about never seeing his parents, but I was shocked. I didn't like the way this guy was talking to Laddie, but I mean, he was cute. Like, really gorgeous.

"Lay off him," I finally said. The boy glared at me.

"He's just a kid," I went on, biting my lip a little. His face softened. He smiled at me a little.

"I guess you're right. He just scared me, since I'm his older brother. I was looking all over for him."

I smiled back. He was really amazing, but I had definitely never seen him around town before. I would remember. He had really light brown hair, almost blonde, blue eyes, and this great smile.

"I know what you mean. I've never seen you around here before," I mentioned.

"Well, you know, I am new in town," he said. "My name's Brendan. What's yours?"

"Pauly," I replied.

"So, what's the catch," Brendan asked.

"What do you mean?"

"A girl as pretty as you are has to have a psychotic boyfriend, or an overly protective father, or really bitchy friends, or something wrong with the people she associates with," Brendan explained.

I sighed a little. "Well, I just dumped my psychotic boyfriend, my dad is too busy trying to win my mom over, and my bitchy friends are no longer speaking to me other than to threaten me with jail time, so you're in luck." I smirked, hoping he didn't think I was insane.

He smiled some more. "I guess I am."

He nodded to my surfboard. "You surf," he asked. I nodded. I couldn't get over this guy. Maybe I had only been cheated on two days ago, but screw Jack. As much as I claimed to love him, I didn't. I loved the status points he came with, and vice versa. But this could be different. I could date someone I actually like.

"You gotta show me how to sometime," Brendan said. I smiled back at him.

"I guess I could get around to that," I said. I looked down at my Swatch. 3:00. School was out. I hoped the principal hadn't called my parents, but I had to go home to make sure Jeremy made it back from school, since the elementary school had early dismissal. I pulled my clothes on, and waved to Laddie and Brendan as I picked up my surfboard and my Rollerblades and raced home. I came in through the back door so I wouldn't run into Mother. As soon as I got inside, the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it," I yelled to whoever was in the house. As I opened the door, I found a cameraman and the Channel 5 news anchor, Sherry Daily, standing on our front step. She shoved a microphone in my face.

"Did you know Taylor McNamara," she practically shouted.

"Yeah," I said, feeling nervous about where this was going.

"We were...friends." She paused, like she wanted me to say something more dramatic. Well, bad news for her, I wasn't going to throw a fit like Tiffani did.

"Where were you when Taylor McNamara was killed," she asked next. _Goddamn it_, I thought. _Was it all over town?_

"Don't I have to sign a release for this," I asked. But then Sherry waved me off and repeated the question. And then Mother came outside, and started hamming it up, at least until she realized why the news crew was really at our house.

"Well," she said. "Tell them you didn't murder Taylor," she hissed.

Somehow, I didn't think my mother wouldn't tolerate me saying that I don't what these people think anymore. So I pretended to get sick and back inside. My mother is so grossed out by illness, it's pathetic. I've had to watch after my brother whenever he gets sick since I was seven and he was one. She stayed outside talking to Sherry Daily as I watched from my bedroom window. I was planning to sneak out and go to the comic shop. At this point, the Frogs were the only friends I had left. Besides, maybe there was something to this vampire thing. I pulled down the fire escape ladder and climbed out of the window. I made it a block before I heard giggling. I started walking faster. It was creeping me out. It sounded like the way the Wicked West of the West cackled in The Wizard of Oz, but more masculine. I always hated that movie. I heard rustling in the bushes. I started running, as fast as I could but I still heard the noises, growing louder and louder. And then it stopped. I looked around. The sun was starting to set. If vampires were real, it would the prime time for them to come out. I started running again at the thought, and I ran right into someone's chest.

"Whoa, where's the fire?"

I looked up and saw Brendan smiling at me. I realized I was being ridiculous. "I thought I heard something," I told him, feeling stupid. I was just letting my imagination run away with me.

"Probably just the wind," he told me. "I could understand why you'd be scared, though. There's a serial killer on the loose around here, I heard."

I blushed. "You're in the clear, you know," he said.

"How did you know about that," was the first thing I asked.

"I heard about it on the news. Some girl named Donna's body go found at this girl Cindy's party, and another girl, Taylor, was killed at her home the same night. I heard that Taylor and Cindy were your friends, so you must be a little scared."

I sighed. So he heard the rumors. Great. "People thought you were the killer at first, but now there's new information coming out about this gang in town, the Surf Nazis."

I raised my eyebrows at that. The Surf Nazis were this group of bumbling drop-out idiots that basically spent all day on the couch at their parents' homes and spent all night being your basic group of juvenile delinquent idiots. They weren't nearly smart enough to murder people, but then again, they did crash Cindy's party. And I could see myself getting beat up by one of those numbskulls. I guess Brendan could be right. I was just glad to be in the clear.

"Hey," he said. "You going to the boardwalk?"

I nodded. "Why don't I walk you to wherever you're going?" I smiled and nodded again. I couldn't think of anything to say. The way Brendan stared at me was so amazing. He looked like an angel. I remembered that Cindy would always talk about the way David stared at her, but this was different. This was special. Besides, David and Brendan looked totally different. Brendan had this clean-cut, All-American boy look about him, while David looked the leader of a punk band.

"Well, uh," I began before I started giggling uncontrollably. I was being even more like Cindy. Shit. I pulled myself together.

"I'm going to the comic shop," I said. "Near the t-shirt shop. You know, there used to be a diet frozen yogurt store where the comic shop is now?"

_What a stupid thing to say_, I thought. But if Brendan thought it was stupid, he didn't show it.

"I didn't know that," he said, as if I'd said something perfectly intelligent. He grabbed my hand and smiled as we walked towards the store.

"So," I asked. "When are you starting school?"

"Tomorrow," he said. "Or sometime soon."

At the time, I didn't realize how vague his answer was.

"I hope I'll see you around," I said. We came to the front of the store.

"Do you want to come in," I asked. I saw him look off in the distance.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I have to get home. I just think my parents could use a little more help unpacking. But sometime soon, OK?"

He gave me a hug before he started leaving. "Wait," I said. "You don't have my number." He smiled again and came back. I grabbed a slip of paper and a pencil from my pocket, quickly jotted my private phone line's number down and handed it to him.

"And you better call me," I said, giggling again. I hoped I didn't sound too aggressive. I didn't want him to think I was psycho.

"Trust me," he said. "I will."

He gave me another hug and walked off into the distance. I went into the shop, and hoped like hell I wasn't blushing too much. Things weren't too crowded, but then again, nothing is before the summer. Both of the Frogs were staring at me.

"Who was that," Edgar asked.

I smiled. "His name's Brendan. He's great. I mean, we only met a few hours ago, but I just know he's a really nice guy. I think you guys would really like him," I said. "We could all be really good friends."

"Where'd he come from," Alan asked. "I mean, it's strange that you just randomly met some guy no one's ever seen before. I mean, why isn't he in school?"

"He just moved here," I explained. "Why do you guys hate him already?"

"We don't hate him," Alan said. "We just find him suspicious."

"Why," I asked. "Because he's nice, and friendly, and handsome, and well-groomed, and might not actually turn out to be a complete jackass like every other guy that looks like that?"

Edgar started looking down at his feet, but Alan stood his ground. "Like I said, he's suspicious."

"You still haven't told me why," I shot back.

"He hangs out with vampires, for one thing," Alan said, pointing to Brendan talking to David and his cronies. A chill went down my spine. Brendan shouldn't be talking to them.

"He's probably just trying to get to know people," I said. "Besides, he's heading home to help his parents."

"That's what he told you," Alan said.

"Besides," I said, "I'm not too convinced about this whole vampire thing. I'm only willing to admit that anything is fairly plausible."

Edgar sighed. "So you really would rather think you got beat up by Surf Nazis," he asked.

"I guess not," I muttered. Surf Nazis were always wasted. I could easily take one in a fight. "I said I think it's plausible. Not definite. And what does any of this have to do with Brendan?"

"Brendan's one of them," Alan explained. "He lured you."

"He didn't," I (admittedly) whined. "He was really nice. He didn't even try to touch my boobs."

"That doesn't mean anything," Edgar said, turning red.

"Yes, it does," I persisted. "I mean, even Alan tried to touch my boob once."

"That's because you had little to no clothes on," Alan pointed out. I rolled my eyes.

"Well, that kind of reasoning says that if you wear swim trunks to the beach, I can grab your junk," I snapped.

Edgar turned even redder. "OK, can we just get off this topic," he muttered. "I don't really want to think about my brother's junk."

"Anyway," I said. "We were talking about Brendan, who is not one of David's friends, nor is he a vampire."

"There's something weird about him," Edgar said. "Whether you want to see it or not."

"You guys haven't even spoken to him yet," I said. "How can you already not trust him?"

Alan sighed. "Fine, fine," he said. "If we ever see the kid at school, we'll give him a chance."

"Why'd you come by anyway," Edgar asked. "Tiffani's going out with Jack now."

I couldn't believe it. "That bitch," I muttered. As hypocritical as it was, why the hell would Tiffani move in on my ex-boyfriend two days after we broke up. I mean, I could see why he did, but I always thought me and Tiffani were good friends. Edgar didn't seem to really care. I guess I didn't either. It just annoyed me.

"Surprisingly, I actually like you guys," I said. "You're kind of fun to mess with and stuff. Plus, you guys are probably the only people who really rag on me."

Just then, Cindy Dunbar came into the store, a group of kids gathered behind her, eyes filled with rage.

"What you really did is worse than murder, Pauly," she shouted.

"What are screaming about now," I asked.

"You stole David from me, I know it," she shouted. His name sent a chill down my spine. I don't know if David was the one who attacked me, but he scared the hell out of me. I shook my head.

"Mr. Walsh said he saw you two finding the body together. Now why would you two be together if you weren't having sex?"

That was when I finally admitted it. David attacked me. I just couldn't think of why. Maybe he thought I killed Taylor. I doubt it though. Maybe he killed Taylor. I decided to tell Cindy that.

"Neither of you killed her," Cindy said. "You were too busy stabbing me in the back to stab Taylor."

I guess Cindy could believe what she wanted to believe.

"Why are you really mad at me," I asked.

"You never liked David," she said. "You stole him from me anyway. Just like with Jack. He would have asked me out if it hadn't been for you. Like mother, like daughter, I guess."

I narrowed my eyes. "Get the hell away from me right now," I warned Cindy.

"No," she said. "You can't just send people away when they say something you don't like."

"I'm warning you, Cindy," I hissed. She stood there, not moving. I flew into a blind rage, tackling her to the ground and doing everything I could to destroy her. Slapping her, scratching my nails into her face, punching her, pulling her hair, even spitting on her. She got a few slaps in, but I could easily brush her hand away. Someone was trying to pull me off of her, Alan or Jack or somebody, but I stayed firm. When I could finally calm down a little, I looked at Cindy's clawed up face and realized the truth: I was going completely insane. I stood up and Cindy got up and rushed out, the crowd that had gathered following behind her. I felt absolutely nothing as I watched my former friends leaving me behind. I didn't know what to say, or what to do. I felt like trash. I hoped Brendan wouldn't find out about what happened. Later that night, I dreamt about him. I dreamt that we had the whole world to ourselves. That we never had to worry about our family, or our friends, or murder, or anything. It was just us, together until death. But I missed Jeremy, and my father, and Edgar, and even Janet Anderson if you can believe it. I have no idea what that dream meant. But it creeped me out. It creeped me out a lot.


	16. Chapter 15: Edgar

Ch. 15

Edgar's POV

I definitely hate that Brendan kid. He actually did, surprisingly, show up at school today. He just wasn't in any classes except for lunch. Pauly actually sat with us in the cafeteria. A few of the other random guys who sat there, mostly burnouts, rebels, and comic book nerds, were just staring at her in awe for a few seconds before they turned their attentions back to whatever they were doing before she sat. Except for Janet, of course, but Janet would still be glaring at her from across the room to begin with. I was about to ask Pauly something when a hand reached down and grabbed a French fry off her plate. We all looked up to see the smug, disgustingly squeaky-clean face of _Brendan_.

He sat down at our table, blindingly white smile shining. "I'm glad I found you, Pauly," he said, ignoring the fact that both Alan and I were glaring at him. Pauly blushed and looked at her feet. "I could've really used a tour guide to get around here," he went on.

Santa Carla High is not that complex a school. There are only two floors and about sixty classrooms at the most. "Especially a pretty girl like you," I heard him whisper as he put his lips to Pauly's ear, before he sniffed her hair, and then sighed as he rested his ear on her neck, probably listening to her blood pulsating.

Pauly looked pretty weirded out, but Brendan didn't seem to notice. Alan raised his eyebrows at me, and even Janet Anderson made a loud gagging noise that she tried to cover up with a cough.

"So, uh, what classes do you have," Pauly asked, turning away from him. He showed her his schedule, which looked different than the ones the rest of us had received. It looked one of those charts our fourth-grade teacher taught us to make on the computers at the library.

"Oh, I can meet you by your locker and show how to get to Chemistry. That looks like it's the only class we have together," Pauly said. Brendan looked around nervously. He probably wasn't a student and he snuck in for lunch. Bloodsucking scam artist.

"I'll see you there," he finally said, smiling weakly. I could tell he had no idea how he could sneak into a class unnoticed.

"Young man," the cafeteria moderator yelled. "Are you a student here?"

Brendan looked up. He was busted. I had to restrain myself from applauding. "The guidance counselor probably wants to see me," he said, before dashing out of the cafeteria.

Pauly turned back towards me. "Can we not talk about the neck thing," she asked.

"No," I said. "Because now you have to admit, there's something strange about him. Like his random appearances and exits, and the fact that we haven't seen him all day before lunch, and I bet he won't be in Chemistry either. He's a bloodsucker, Pauly. I know it."

"He's not," she protested. "He's too nice."

"Wasn't David nice at first," Alan pointed out.

Pauly bit her lip again, and muttered, "I guess." I hated when she bit her lip. It made me feel like shit. Alan seemed completely oblivious to the fact that he had just upset Pauly, and continued to eat off her plate. Pauly was so bony-armed for a reason, I guess. She pretty much let everyone eat off her plate, and she barely touched her own food. Eventually, she slapped Alan's hand and started eating her own food. But before she even ate four fries, the bell rang and Pauly threw her whole lunch away.

She rolled her eyes at me. "Please sit in between me and Alan next time," she begged me. "Because if I don't get to eat tomorrow, I'll have to kill him."

She smirked a little at me. "I'm sorry about the Brendan thing," I think I may have actually heard myself say.

Pauly bit her lip again. "It was...it was no big deal," she said, trying to force a smile. "I'd ought to get to Chemistry anyway."

She started heading off to class, but I stopped her. "You don't hate me, do you," I asked. "Because it's OK if you're mad at me, but I don't want you to hate me again."

Pauly sighed and turned to face me. "I never hated you," she said. "I hated my mother, and sometimes I hated myself or my friends, but I never hated you." She rushed off to her class, looking around desperately for Brendan. I started walking to class, slowly forgetting that Pauly was off searching for some vampire. I was just thinking about the necklace she wore yesterday. It was some beaded thing she had made at summer camp. It was worth about fifty cents, but Pauly cherished that thing. Once, some jackass threw it into the lake nearby, and she dove in fully clothed after it, and refused to come out of the lake until she had a firm grip on that necklace. It was the first time in three years I'd seen her wear it. I wondered if she even remembered how important it had been to her. I wondered if, somehow, she had remembered how important our friendship had been, and if she had come up with that flimsy excuse about some poster just to see me again. I had to admit that I had missed her everyday for about a month after she ditched me. Maybe she had regretted her decision and she missed me too. I doubt it. She probably wanted to improve her karma at first, and somehow we'd become friends again. I shrugged off all of the thoughts floating around in my head and settled into the back of my classroom. I actually spent the entire class focused completely on Geometry. I didn't see Pauly again until the end of the day.

She bit her lip again as soon as she saw me. "I'm guessing Brendan didn't show," I said.

Pauly shook her head. "This doesn't mean anything," she said, although her tone was sad.

"Are you gonna come hang out again," I asked. She nodded and smiled slightly. I almost grabbed her hand when _Brendan_ came jogging down the hall.

"Why weren't you in Chemistry," Pauly asked.

"I had, uh, personal business to attend to," Brendan said.

"Like what," Pauly persisted.

"Don't worry about it."

She glared at him, and he smiled sheepishly in response. "There's something I wanted to show you," Brendan said. "You'll be at the boardwalk tonight, right?"

Pauly nodded, a grin creeping upon her face again. What was it about this guy? Why was it that all he had to do was smile, and she was like putty in his hands?

"See you there," Brendan said, rubbing his thumb across her forehead, still smiling like crazy. Pauly nodded again as he jogged away.

"I should at least find out what his deal is before I completely decide he's a creep, right," Pauly asked me. I shrugged.

"Yeah, whatever," I muttered. "Let's head down to the boardwalk."

We both went outside to wait for Alan by the bike rack. I tried to make conversation like a normal person, but I couldn't think of anything to say. Luckily, he didn't take too long inside.

"God, will you stop following me, Aimee," I heard him argue.

"Not until you tell me who you're taking to prom," she shot back.

"I'll talk to you tomorrow, ok," I heard Alan mutter as he walked towards us.

"Fine," Aimee said, pouting as she went in the opposite direction.

"Well, at least it looks I'm going to graduate," Alan said. "Thank God."

We grabbed our bikes and Pauly wore her rollerblades as we rode off towards the comic book shop. And, just my luck, _Brendan_ was waiting inside.

"Hey, Pauly," he said with that stupid smirk on his face, flat out ignoring both of us again.

"So, I was just wondering, what time sounds better, six or seven o' clock?"

"Six o' clock sounds good," Pauly said, smiling.

"The sooner the better," Brendan nodded in agreement.

He left, saying "Good bye" without any huge parting scenes like last night.

"I can't lose," Pauly said as soon as he left.

"What do you mean you can't lose," I shot back. "You could die. He could kill you, Pauly. Has that thought even occurred to you?"

"I'm faster than them," Pauly replied. "That's how I escaped the first time."

"You didn't escape," Alan pointed out. "David beat you into submission, and he would have killed you if something hadn't distracted him."

Pauly rolled her eyes. "I'm not just some little girl," she said. "I can take care of myself. This is the eighties, you know. Besides, like I said, this is a win-win situation. Either Brendan turns out to be a great guy, and you guys are wrong, or you're right, and I get some more information on David and his friends, so you guys can beat the shit out of them, or kill them, or whatever your plan is."

"And how can you be so sure David and Brendan will be in the same group," Alan asked. "Maybe they have no idea of each other's existence."

"Trust me," Pauly said. "If Brendan and David are both vampires, they'll at least know each other. I mean, two vampires in the same small town would know each other."

We realized that there was no way Pauly was going to just listen to us. Pauly doesn't just listen to people. For some reason, she has this need to just find things out for herself, and we had to let her do just that. Eventually, though, around five thirty, it dawned on me that I was basically going to let Pauly wander into the waiting arms of a bloodsucker completely unarmed. Again. She almost got herself killed last time; how could I expect her to do any better this time around? And so, what had to be the most awkward moment in the history of my entire life happened as Pauly was beginning to leave. She brushed her hair behind her shoulders and started heading outside, towards where David and Co. were loitering with Brendan and some curly haired pissed off girl. I grabbed her wrist and she spun around.

"What, Edgar," she said, sounding annoyed, gazing off at Brendan.

I shoved an short, unfinished, but already sharpened stake at her. "Put this...somewhere," I told her. "In your jacket or something. So they won't see it."

Pauly shoved it in a black strap inside her baggy starter jacket, where a water bottle would usually be placed, waved to both of us, and jogged out towards the gang. Brendan immediately wrapped an arm around her, and Pauly rested her head on his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist. And then, I swear to God, David turned towards the window, where Alan and I were watching and _smirked_. Like he knew what we were planning. We both ducked down behind a display case in the window until we saw him leave. I seriously hoped that Pauly meant it when she said she could take of herself. I also seriously hoped that, no matter what species he was, that Pauly wouldn't fall for _Brendan_.


	17. Chapter 16: Star

Ch. 16

Star's POV

I actually went through with it. At six pm, I was just your ordinary college student, but by midnight, I was a member of the living dead. I'm sure you're wondering how I could have made such a drastic leap. Right now, that makes two of us. I went to the boardwalk again, after avoiding it for a mere seven hours. I wish I had had more willpower. I saw David again at the end of the boardwalk, and to my surprise, a rather clean-cut boy around Pauly's age seemed to be pleading with them. David was glaring at him and shaking his head. They didn't even notice me. I was easily disguised by the crowd, and I didn't feel like entering his line of vision. The more I gazed on, though, the more disgusted I felt with myself. I finally gave up trying to avoid David, and decided to confront him. I marched over and was just about to ask if he planned to ever even at least call me, or give an explanation of why he murdered (fairly) innocent teenage girls that went beyond "I'm a vampire, that's what we do." I mean, he had to have some kind of conscience. Even animals have consciences.

As soon as I tapped him on the shoulder, David turned around and smiled. "Oh, hey, Star," he said, still grinning, just like the kid standing next to him. "You came."

He was acting like this was a party or something. "This guy right here is Brendan," he said. "He's my little friend, and he invited one of _his_ little friends to come hang out with us, Pauly. You remember Pauly, right?"

Brendan flashed me a cocky grin and nodded at me. "Hey, you must be Star, huh," he said, running his fingers through his hair and winking obnoxiously. It was like they had rehearsed this or something.

"Hi, Brendan," I said quickly, brushing him off. "David, I have to-"

"Oh, look, here she comes now," Brendan said, pointing out Pauly strolling through the crowd towards us. As soon as she reached the edge of the boardwalk, she tossed her hair and wrapped herself around Brendan, like it was totally normal for her to hang out with David. But then I saw her shoot a glare towards David.

"So," she asked him. "How do you know Brendan?" He smiled at her in a manner I'm sure he thought was charming, but actually looked more terrifying.

"We're old family friends," he told her. "I've known Brendan since we were kids."

Pauly narrowed her eyes. "Interesting," she responded, distrusting. I couldn't stand to watch him trying to fool Pauly any longer.

"David," I said. "I want to talk to you. Right now."

I felt irritated, trying to watch him scam these two kids. I felt sort of responsible for Pauly, since I felt bad about how I had left Taylor to die. I mean, she was dead when I got there, but I still felt responsible. I guess I take on too much guilt sometimes, especially since I've discovered just why Santa Carla is the murder capital of the world, and I didn't turn them in or try to stop them, or anything.

"Hey," Brendan said, still grinning like an jerk. "Anything you have to say to David, you can say in front of me."

I just rolled my eyes at me and turned to David. "Well," I snapped. He shrugged at the other two, and led me under the boardwalk. It wasn't actually a choice location, considering it was a little too secluded from everyone else. Then again, a dark alleyway would have been worse, and that seemed to be where he usually took his victims, if the news had anything to say about where the bodies were found. I stood with my back to him about a yard away; I didn't even want to look at him or be near him. He was probably going to kill some other kids tonight, maybe even Brendan, who seemed to believe they were friends.

I didn't have any plan for what I wanted to say to him, so the first thing I said was, "Well, I guess you won. Most of the kids in town are completely terrified of you. Pauly and that other kid, Brendan, were clinging on to each other for dear life, and the two Frog boys hid as soon as you looked at them. So are you done messing with them?"

He shrugged. "I don't think they're afraid of me. Pauly and Brendan are just two silly teenagers in love. And the Frogs are just children." He started snickering to himself.

I rolled my eyes at him again. "So why are you screwing around with a bunch of kids," I asked.

"At first," David said. "I wanted Cindy to join us. She was evil, and ruthless, but easily controlled. But as time went on, I grew to become more and more annoyed by her, and her little friends. So I started playing a little game with them. I find it rather entertaining, even if you don't."

"You know," I said. "I don't get why you seem to screw around with Pauly though. You could have just killed her. Why do you keep messing with her?"

"She's my favorite, that's why," David said. "She puts up a real challenge, since she thinks she's the Karate Kid or something. And besides, she never liked me. I see no reason to be pleasant towards her."

"But can't you just trip her in the streets, or call her a bitch, or something," I protested, turning my head towards him.n"Why do you want to kill her? Or any of these kids?"

"I have an issue with them," David said, finally dropping the act. "It's not something I'd like to get into. It goes back over fifteen years."

He lit a cigarette, and looked up to the sky. "Most of them weren't even two years old back then," I pointed out.

"That's why it's hard to explain," David said.

I crossed my arms over my chest and started walking away.

"But I can try," he said, sounding resigned. "You see, I had this friend here in the early seventies, when I first wandered into Santa Carla. I had fed on human blood for years by then, and turned others, but this guy was one of the first that I kept as a companion, and didn't leave behind. His name was Eric."

David shoved his hands in his pockets, sighed, and continued. "You see, Eric did something stupid before I changed him. He had this girl, Alison, around his age, nineteen or twenty. They had dated in high school, but she ended up married to some corporate type. When he was out of town, Eric moved in on her by disguising himself as a mailman."

David looked disgusted as he went on with the story. "They had an affair for about a month, and then finally Alison had some bad news: she was pregnant."

David looked up at the sky and kept smoking his cigarette. "Eric was actually excited if you can believe that. He convinced Alison not to abort it, and he started reading books on childcare and buying toys and equipment for it, and getting baby clothes and formula heaters from Salvation Army."

David shook his head. "But Alison found out that her husband was coming home from China, or Europe, or wherever the hell he went. She told Eric to leave, to flee town. He didn't leave town, though. He came to me."

David took another puff of his cigarette, sighed and continued. "Things went well for about three years. Then, he saw them. He saw his daughter and Alison's husband holding hands, as the little girl was skipping down to the boardwalk."

David sighed. "I think he cracked when he heard her call the other man 'Daddy.' At first he acted like it was nothing to him. But about two days later, he told me he wanted to raid a church. I didn't ask him what for, I just went with him. In a way, I already knew what he was going to do. He found one of those fountains of holy water and drowned himself in it. Do you know who's father he is?"

I shook my head, amazed by the tragic story. "He's Pauly's father." David glared at where he could see Pauly on the boardwalk.

"Before I even thought of approaching those girls, I overheard them talking about him. And Pauly said that he was 'scummy white trash' and that she's glad she never met him," David growled. "She's a worthless little brat, no matter how nice she seems."

I didn't know what to do or say. I just looked at my feet. "He had a lot of fun while we were friends," David said, wrapping his arms around me. "He just couldn't handle it." David smiled at me as I turned my head towards him. "Other people could handle it though. Dwayne, and Paul, and Marko, and, who knows, maybe even you."

I raised my eyebrows at him. "Come on, Star," David said. "What were you worried about before you met me?"

I sighed. "Honestly," I said. "I was worried, well, I'm still worried about the direction my life is going in. Everyone's always asking me about my future, what I want to do with my life. I still have no idea. I mean, I don't really like the idea of a career, but I don't want to be some sort of temp secretary or a housewife or something. I'm not interested in the arts or education either. But I want to do something. I just don't know what."

David grinned at me like a Cheshire Cat. "Think about it, Star. What if your life could just be fun forever? You'd never have to worry about much of anything. You'd have nothing to worry about the future. You could just live."

I bit my lip. That was tempting. That was really tempting. I didn't want to give in so easily. I didn't want to give up the real world, but I wanted an escape at the same time. David mistook my silence for being nervous about a completely different matter.

"You could feed from whoever you wanted. Nameless, faceless people, if you have to," he assured me. I smiled a little. I mean, at least he had put some of my feelings into consideration. I turned to face him. "I just- I don't know," I said, barely above a whisper.

I could laughter coming down from the boardwalk. _It's not like I hate my life_, I thought. _It's just- the freedom has its appeal. A lot more appeal than my real life._ My parents were always on my case lately about what I was going to do after college and how I needed to "buckle down", while my friends wanted to know why I didn't want to party and have fun as much I did in high school. They were all driving me insane. I think that's why I caved. I was under too much pressure from my parents, my old friends seemed shallow, and otherwise I don't know. I was trying to reason with myself, to convince myself it was a good idea to become a vampire. I don't know why or how, but David was very persuasive. Maybe it was because he knew how to talk to women in a way that could make anyone feel special, or because he knew how to make people pity him. Looking back, the whole Eric story was probably overdramatized and spun in his favor. It was definitely dumb of me to go into their underground Batcave with them. Brendan came, but it seemed like Pauly had gone home.

They convinced me to drink a vial of blood. "Come, on, Star," David said. "We don't have all night." He and his friends started snickering. I snatched up the bottle and chugged down at least half of it. I felt sick, even as I was doing it. But apparently, that was the only way I could turn into a vampire.

Afterwards, everyone celebrated that I had joined them. That I had joined the Dark Side. I was absolutely confused about my decision. But after David's friends were so nice, and he was so kind to me, I began to relax and have some fun. I still don't know if I made the right decision. I guess it's just one of those nights. I can't believe myself, but not in a bad way. I was a preppy growing up, and I never took a risk. I never even left California. I thought things would change in college, but I didn't get into Sarah Lawrence or any of the East Coast schools I applied to, and ended going to UC Santa Carla, which might as well be Santa Carla High Pt. 2. I had the same friends, saw the same people, and did the same things. I just needed to break free. I needed things to change. I was tired of never doing anything unexpected. So that's why I took the leap. I did feel free afterwards. I still think this might have been a dumb idea sometimes. But otherwise I feel like it was the right decision, to stay with David. To change my entire life...


End file.
